


Seven Candles

by Courtanie



Series: A Demon's Fate [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Abduction, Biblical References, Blood and Gore, Heaven vs Hell, M/M, Spiritual, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 51
Words: 171,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtanie/pseuds/Courtanie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven and Hell are about to engage in another war with Kenny and Damien leading the call. However, how well will the angels' savior fair when his greatest love is taken and turned into his greatest threat?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Dragon Spits Fire

**And another angel came out of the temple, crying with a loud voice to him that sat on the cloud, Thrust in thy sickle, and reap: for the time is come for thee to reap; for the harvest of the earth is ripe.** _**\- Revelations 14:15** _

There was something to be said about Earth that Damien could never quite put into the words it so desperately deserved. Unwarranted. Unclean. Disturbing. _Foolish_.

Twenty some-odd years of being by his Father's side, watching soul after soul pouring into their domain in turbulent lines was becoming nothing short of monotonous. Pure, unadulterated fear rang out through the carmine setting, lost mortals crying in vain over what they believed to be a vast miscalculation. After all, they _all_ had their gods or lack thereof. Every single one of them 'knew the truth in their heart'. It was something that Damien had always found entertaining, seeing the pure humanity of these souls being bared, their true essences shining through. Born again Christians became absurdly violent, thrashing out at the demons coming to begin work on harvesting their souls. Nuns and priests alike threw vicious temper tantrums, demanding the opportunity to speak to their God about such a gross misunderstanding, to let them be allowed into the domain in which they believed they truly belonged.

All in all, Damien found it hilarious.

However, as the years waned on, as he realized that his life had been reduced to nothing more than a gatekeeper, he began to yearn. Yearn for freedom from this plodding routine that had seeped every ounce of vigor from his bones. Humanity was disgusting him more than entertaining him. These mortals didn't _deserve_ the lives from which they had pathetically spawned. The fact that they came down to Hell kicking and screaming like little children was purely revolting. They'd each had so many years to find out the true path to enlightenment, they'd each been given enough opportune time to earn their wings.

But all of them disregarded that fact, thinking that throwing two dollars into the collection plate was enough to guide them into the gates of Heaven.

Yet still they whined and moaned. It was almost poignant in a sense, the way that mortals held on so tightly to their beliefs even when shown how very wrong they had been. But nonetheless, Damien held a great deal of hatred for those who burst onto his home turf in a small blast of flame. Observing them being tortured sated his appetite for a good amount of time, but it never felt as though it were quite enough. Something within him was infused with a heady rage. Something was telling him that action had to be taken.

These pathetic sacks of flesh and bone were nothing more than spoiled children. Bratty little fucks who had nothing better to do with their time than complain instead of realizing just where it was they'd went wrong in their lives. What did they care after all? They were dead. It was so much easier for them to just sit there and cry, screaming and beating their fists on the ground as they demanded to be let into where they 'truly' belonged.

They didn't deserve what they'd been given. Damien wanted that freedom, and as far as he was concerned, he had earned it far more than any of 'God's children'.

Walking towards his Father's office, he glanced towards a group of people trying to run from a demon. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, holding out his hand and watching with a smirk as the ground in front of the crowd rippled, sending them sprawling onto the ground in a jumbled heap.

"Thank you, Master Damien," the demon nodded gratefully. Damien merely nodded back, continuing his walk. Glimmering ruby eyes swept over towards the group as reinforcements came, ripping them from each other. Screams of terror and anger swept through the acrid air like a song. A song that Damien had heard _far_ too many times to find enjoyment in it anymore.

It was time for something different. It was time for the mortals to learn just how much power the forces of Hell really held over their deplorable existences.

It was time for _war_.

He passed a thrall of demons outside his father's office, each of them giving respectable, tiny bows before him. He continued on without giving any of them a second glance. He was too enthralled in his possibilities, too lost in the concept that he wished to present to his father. He shoved his way into the large room, finding his father standing and throwing paperwork behind him, muttering to himself about a deadline or something or other. He cleared his throat, watching The Beast whirl around and widen his eyes in surprise. "Damien? What's wrong?" he blinked.

"Humanity," he said bluntly, walking over and standing in front of him, staring up at his Father determinedly.

He rolled his eyes, "Isn't that the truth," he scoffed. "I'm so fucking behind on my paperwork I can't even-"

"Then don't fucking do it," he scowled. "Dad, I've been thinking."

"That's never a good thing," he smirked, noticing a twinkle in Damien's eye that he had never seen before. It intrigued him. He gestured for Damien to sit down and he did so, watching as Satan leaned against his desk and looked at him carefully. "What's on your mind, Son?" he asked quietly.

A forked tongue passed over Damien's lips, his hands trembling with a rush of excitement. "War, Pops," he said firmly, though the grin couldn't be kept from his face. "Let's go to war with God."

"Oh boy," he sighed, rubbing his temple. "Damien, we tried that once when you were younger, remember? And we got our asses handed to us."

"That's because you didn't do it right!" he hissed. "You used demons and demons only! You have a whole fucking army of _mortals_ under your beck and call. We get them ready to fight, we lead them to the gates of Heaven, and we fucking _destroy_ it. We show those goody-goody angel fuckers that they don't get to dump all their creations on us that don't meet their fucking standards!"

Satan watched him carefully, his face falling into a thoughtful frown. "Damien, these people don't _want_ to help us."

He scoffed, jumping up onto his chair to come closer to his towering Father's height. "You think that matters?" he questioned. "Whether or not they like it, their souls belong to us, Dad. It takes a few fucking simple spells and then we use our demons and start training them. Let God be destroyed by those He betrayed," he smiled, his fangs glimmering in the fires burning outside the room.

He crossed his arms and chuckled, "It sounds great in theory, Damien. You know that I'm beyond sick of dealing with His messes," he sighed. His face fell into a grim line as he stared down at his son, "The problem is we've lost once before. I know increasing our offensive would be useful but-"

"But nothing," he interjected. "This is our chance. And you're right. We _have_ lost before. Which means Heaven will think we'll be taken down just as easily. We won't let them know that they no longer have the upper hand. Think of how much we outnumber them, Dad. It's pretty much 100 of us to four of them," he frowned.

The Beast nodded along with the boy's words, looking down and tapping his cloven foot in thought. "It would be nice to not have to deal with all this…" he looked around his office tiredly, filled to the brim with the paperwork for each new soul. Nearly 200,000 deaths every day, only barely of quarter of them making it into Heaven. It made his life, for all intents and purposes, a living fucking Hell. He knew being here was punishment for so long ago, but this just seemed overkill. He looked back down on his son, who was grinning widely at the prospect of winning his Father's favor. "Why do _you_ want war, Damien?" he cocked his brow. "You just direct people to their prospective layers."

His grin faded and a dark shadow cast itself over his face. "These people don't deserve to bitch about where they are," he growled. "All they do is go through their daily fucking lives thinking they're kings when in reality, they're the rats that the peasants feast upon…" he grated his lip a bit, his claws digging into his palm as he clenched his fist. "I think Earth needs to see just how it is when things are _plainly_ spelled out for them, wouldn't you agree?"

He smirked a bit. "Pettiness? That's what this is about, Damien?"

He shrugged, "It's a sin, ain't it?" he cocked his brow. "Kinda my job, Pops."

Satan chuckled and nodded a bit, "I suppose you're right on that one." He bit his lip and sighed tiredly. "Is suppose we could round up our main torturers, see what they think," he said quietly. Though the both of them knew well enough none of them would dare question their intentions. If the two of them told them to wear salmon for hats, the streams of the world would be fleshed out at once. Satan looked up in thought. "We'll have to get a spell for the mortals."

"It won't be hard," Damien shrugged. "Hell, I'll have Gragor look into that one for me."

He nodded once more, "Very well. However…" he paused, frowning in concern. "There is one potential problem."

"Oh?" he cocked his brow.

He rolled his eyes. "We lost last time because of their fucking Keanu Reeves. If he's back again for them-"

"Ah ah ah," he laughed sardonically, wagging his finger. "Don't you worry about that for one moment, Pops." Satan tilted his head, intrigued at the purely devious glint flashing through Damien's eyes. His son looked up at him and that shadow passed over his face once again. "I know _just_ what to do with him."


	2. Sins of the Flesh

**For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world** _**.** _ _**– 1 John 2:16** _

He walked into the room, dropping his bag on the floor exhaustedly. Tired green eyes found bright blue counterparts and he offered him a small smile. His glance drifted to the blonde's hand, reaching down and grabbing a bottle next to an already emptied one and he growled inwardly, making his way and plopping down next to him on the couch. "You know, you're turning into your father," Kyle said, raising a brow as he watched Kenny guzzling down the first half of his second beer.

Kenny's face twisted into a pout and he pulled the bottle out of his lips with an audible _pop_. "Not cool, Ky," he said, sighing and putting his beer on their coffee table, crossing his arms in a childish silent tantrum. Kyle smirked, reaching forward and snatching the drink with a playful "yoink". The blonde watched, laughing as Kyle made quick work to finish off his beer for him. He smacked his lips and winked at him a bit, tossing the bottle over towards their recycling box by the door. They watched it sail smoothly, landing atop the other in a loud clink before they turned their attention back onto each other. "Really?" Ken chuckled.

He shrugged, "It was the last cold one. You can't hog it all to yourself." He turned and let his eyes drift to their television, swiping the remote from the coffee table and turning on some World War One documentary he'd recorded the night before.

He smiled with a slight tug of his lips as he felt Kenny scooting closer to him. "You can't play the father card, Kyle," he said dryly. "It's not fair."

The redhead turned, jolting back slightly as he found Kenny's face inches from his own, hot breath bouncing off of his pale cheeks. "Please," he scoffed. "I can play any damn card I want. I'm just that special," he batted his lashes playfully before pushing back on the blonde's face. "Now get outta my space, your breath smells like a damn brewery."

He looked at him indignantly, slapping his assaulting hand away. "Well that's just plain mean."

"Well I ain't Mr. Nice Guy," he retorted, crossing his arms and snuggling back down into their couch, kicking off his shoes and sighing. It'd been a long day. He'd been looking forward to coming home from classes and making quick work of those beers himself, feeling rather peeved when he found Kenny had beat him home from work and was already indulging in the last of their fizzing delights. He grunted as Kenny scooted up closer to him, putting his head down on his shoulder. The redhead refused to look his way, acting very interested in the display of artillery making its way across the television screen.

"I think you're a nice guy," Kenny purred, kissing his ear.

"Shows how little you know me," he smirked, rolling his shoulder to try to edge Ken off of him. It never worked, but Kyle had never been one for giving into Kenny's advances right off the bat. He liked to make him work for his fun, and after five years, he'd practically turned the man into a salaried employee.

Kenny pressed down on Kyle's shoulder, latching his lips onto his neck and suckling slowly, grinning to himself as Kyle's head slowly tilted to give him more access. Salaried employee or not, Kenny had learned in about three days into their relationship everything to make the stubborn Jew into pure putty in his hot little hands. "I think I know you pretty well," he growled.

"Hm," Kyle mused, listlessly pushing him away, not letting his eyes leave the television. Ken nearly scoffed. It was Kyle's oldest trick in the book. He'd never look directly at him until he was damn well ready to play along. Any sooner and he'd be unable to control himself. Ken tried to put his face in front of Kyle's, amused as he tried his best to avoid him. "What makes you think you know anything about me?" Kyle said flatly, finally putting his palm back on Kenny's face and pressing him back once more.

Kenny chuckled, grabbing the man's left hand and wiggling it in front of its owner's face. "This shiny little ring says a good deal," he teased.

Kyle rolled his eyes a bit, though he couldn't keep himself from smiling. Four months earlier Kenny had come home stumbling around looking like he was wasted out of his mind. Turned out he'd just been a sober but nerve-wracked disaster, tripping over himself and landing face first at Kyle's feet. The redhead had wondered if his was the first proposal ever made while the speaker was muffled by carpeting, and the idea made it all the more special for him. Even if Kenny _was_ a beer-stealing jackass. "Just because I agreed to marry you doesn't mean you know me," he retorted. "Maybe I'm in it for the dowry."

Ken snorted. "A can of Pabst and a cell phone from the goddamn nineties is pretty much all you're gettin', Sweetheart."

Kyle looked over at him and raised his brow. "Call me 'sweetheart' again and that giant phone will be shoved up your skinny ass."

"Oh you're one to talk," he taunted, reaching down and squeezing Kyle's slender waist. He laughed as Kyle batted away his hands, spewing curse words at him for making fun of his size again. He leaned down again, catching Kyle's ear in his teeth and slowly grating the skin. He could practically feel the redhead melting into his mouth, a soft moan just barely concealed under Kyle's fiery attitude. "Come on," he purred. "It's been a long day at work for me. I need some Kyle time," he kissed his temple.

"Yeah well it's been a long day at school for me. I need some TV time," he scoffed, though he knew well enough that Kenny time was better than anything to do with Woodrow Wilson, that's for damn sure.

Ken pouted a bit again, kissing him more frantically. "But all you do is sit there and take notes. I worked on like, eight cars today," he whined.

Kyle looked at him and scowled. "Sit there and take notes?" he repeated. "Yeah. I'll fuckin' remember that when we're living in a house and not this shoddy-ass apartment because I decided to get a Masters and not settle for the lowest possible option. My hard work will get us far, Ken, and I don't appreciate-"

He stopped as Kenny slapped his hand over his mouth, smiling sheepishly. "You know I didn't mean it like that," he said with a soft laugh. "I know ya work hard," he grinned, kissing Kyle's cheek, watching the ensuing blush giddily. "And you know I'll say anything to get you to take off your damn pants."

Kyle ripped his hand off of his lips and crossed his arms stubbornly. "Insulting me is _not_ a good way to go about it, Dickhead."

"Hm," he smirked, grabbing Kyle's arms and whirling him around, pushing him down forcefully. He winced as Kyle's head slammed into the arm of the couch. "Sorry," he cringed.

Kyle shook off his daze and stared at the blonde hovering over him tiredly. "You better make it up to me," he said.

Ken raised his brow amusedly. "I accept that challenge," he chuckled, forcing himself between Kyle's legs and crushing their lips together. Kyle rolled his eyes before letting them slip closed, breathing in the stale taste of cigarettes lingering on Kenny's tongue. He made a mental note to bitch him out later for smoking again, but he was far too into the wanderings of the wet muscle alongside his own to spoil it. His hips jerked up as Kenny pressed down against him, grinding in tight little circles along his pantline. Kyle's hands came up, tangling in Kenny's hair and pulling him in closer, sliding himself down to fall flat against the cushions. He grunted a bit as Kenny shoved his legs further apart, greedily opening him up for himself. He couldn't deny a part of him loved it.

Kyle broke from his lips for a breath, Kenny's mouth automatically going to kiss and suckle at any bare skin he could find. The redhead licked his lips, his hands quickly struggling to relinquish Kenny's shirt and throw it across the room. Ken backed up and wriggled his brows and Kyle rolled his eyes again. "Don't go growin' your ego, McCormick."

"Hey, watch it, that's gonna be your name, too," he teased. Kyle pouted a bit. They hadn't talked about that yet but it seems as though Kenny had already made up his mind. Not that Kyle minded terribly, but still. "'Sides," the blonde continued, grabbing Kyle's hand and putting it on his chest. "I _know_ how much you like it," his voice dropped into a sultry growl that gave Kyle's cock a healthy twitch and made him blush. He slowly slid his hand up Kenny's chest, grasping around a toned shoulder and shuddering, knowing that he was doing nothing more than inflating Kenny's already oversized head, but he couldn't help himself. Kenny had been his drug for years, and trying to wean himself off by any margin was just not an option. He bit his lip slightly, breaking his staring at Kenny's muscle back to his face, feeling himself pinned by a hard, lusting look slicing through those usually clear blue eyes. He gulped, every bit of him intimidated and aroused all the same by that intense stare that he'd grown so fond of. He couldn't even think of his usual arguments as Kenny threw his hand off of him and ripped his shirt off, throwing it by his own.

They stared at each other for a bit before Kenny's face broke into that delicious smirk he'd perfected over the years. He kept Kyle held down by his eyes alone, a hand coming to cusp his face as his socked foot kicked clumsily at the coffee table, shoving it over towards their TV. He finally managed to get it a good distance away, grabbing Kyle by the arms and rolling him onto the floor, coming down on top of him as Kyle hissed at the abrupt change of position, pushing himself up onto his forearms. His frustration was quickly lost as Kenny's hips began grinding down onto his upturned ass, a hand coming down and reaching under his chest, toying with a dusky nipple. He couldn't help but let a quiet moan worm its way out, his body picking up on its own and pressing back against Kenny's thrusts. He felt the bulge in Kenny's jeans hugging the round curve of his ass and bit his lip, letting out a shaky breath.

He yelped as another hand came and wrapped itself in his thick curls, pulling him straight up on his knees against Kenny's bared chest. Slender hands came back, scratching at Kenny frantically as they continued to grind against each other. Warm, wet lips pressed against the nape of his neck, teeth scraping over the delicate skin. He wriggled a bit, feeling uncomfortably restrained in his jeans. A husky laugh breathed hotly over his neck made him shiver. "You know," Kenny growled lowly, hands busying themselves pulling his curls tautly and playing with his hardening nipples. "You always fight but you always lose."

"M-maybe I just like to make you work for me, Jackass," he stammered out, fingernails digging crescents into Kenny's shoulders.

"I've worked for you plenty," he said, biting his neck teasingly. "I think you know by now that you're _mine_ ," he broke his hand from the man's chest and reached down, grasping around the bulge in his jeans. Kyle hissed as Kenny's hand worked its magic, massaging his cock through the rough fabric and pushing his own against his backside. He shuddered, nearly smothered by Kenny's complete entrapment. He welcomed it, letting Kenny take him further into the abyss where he'd be clutching at nothing, gasping for air and emerging through the battle a broken man.

One of his hands worked its way down, awkwardly contorting itself to grasp back at Kenny's own rise, letting him hump his hand and playing with the lining of his jeans with a slow, taunting finger. He moaned at the feeling of the heat breaking through onto his palm, his mind overwhelmed with visions of holding it, _tasting_ it, feeling it inside of himself. His own cock was practically screaming for the show to get on its way, but he let Kenny take the reins on this one, giving him the chance to make good on his words and make the redhead his once again.

Kenny chuckled under his breath, knowing that the ever high-strung Kyle Broflovski was starting to lose himself in the whirlwind of hormones. There was definitely some pride involved with being the only one who could make Kyle fall prey to such inner turmoil. "Eager?" he asked with a shit-eating grin.

"Shut up," he hissed, pressing his hand back more firmly against Kenny's dick, getting a small yelp out of the larger boy. Quick, practiced fingers suddenly slid up, skillfully undoing the button of Kyle's jeans and sliding down into the open fabric. Kyle laid his head back all Kenny's restraining hand in his hair allowed as his calloused fingers slowly wormed down under his boxers, wrapping around the blazing heat waiting for his touch.

"Seems eager to me," he sang, nipping Kyle's throat.

Kyle growled, dropping both hands and undoing Kenny's jeans, rolling his eyes as his cock automatically popped out from his fly. "Wear underwear for once in your life, Ken," he said, letting out a breathy shiver as the feeling of hot skin jumped up against his palms. Every ridge and vein was caressing through his touch, and it was beautiful.

"You like it when I don't," he smirked, knowing Kyle was lost in his own imagination at this point. He grunted, ripping his hand out of Kyle's pants to his supreme dismay, twisting his fingers latched in ember curls to whirl the boy around to face him. Kyle found himself held captive by those blue eyes again, one hand coming up and grabbing a muscular shoulder while the other remained firmly coddling Kenny's dick. The blonde smirked, leaning down and pressing their lips together again, shoving Kyle's pants and boxers down to let them coil around his knees. He let his hand roam up and down Kyle's naked backside, relishing in the soft skin dancing with goosebumps under his wanderings.

Kyle let out a small noise of impatience from the back of his throat, bringing both his hands to Kenny's beltline and tearing down his jeans, redirecting his fingers up to around the back of Kenny's neck. He pulled him down further into him, giving his hips small pushes forward against Kenny's cock. Ken smirked, biting his bottom lip and backing from him slowly, letting the skin slip through his teeth while dark, beaming jade eyes fluttered open, looking lost in Kenny's trance. The blonde gave him a husky chuckle, the one that said he had taken control for now and made Kyle's stomach flitter with excitement and ideas of what could come. Ken reached over towards their coffee table and ripped open one of the skewed drawers. Kyle watched, shaking his head but not the least bit surprised as Kenny pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. He had the damn things stashed all over the apartment, telling Kyle that 'he wasn't about to fuck up the mood by getting up and searching for shit'. Not that the redhead minded too much. It never was any fun to be sprawled out on the kitchen table naked while Kenny frantically searched for supplies.

"Yes or no?" Ken waved the condom in front of him. Kyle let his mind flow through the rest of his day, though he hated to break his train of thought with anything not involving Ken's dick. He didn't have anywhere to go, he could shower right after. He waved it away and Ken got the same shit eating grin he always got when Kyle opted to go without. Kyle nearly laughed as he excitedly came forward, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a long, deep kiss. The redhead blinked as he felt a bottle being pressed into his palm, breaking the kiss and glancing down at the lube, raising a brow back up at his fiancé. Kenny leaned down, kissing the side of Kyle's neck and loving the way his breath hitched excitedly. "I think you deserve to be punished for your mean remarks in regards to my drinking," he said lowly.

"Oh really?" he challenged, unable to control his body from arching closer into Kenny's.

"Mhmm," he nodded, licking a line up the man's jugular. "I think you should get yourself ready for me…and get my dick goin', too," he grinned.

Kyle's stomach did excited flips, but refused to let it show. "And just _why_ should I do all the work?" he demanded smartly.

Ken pulled back and gave him that damnable smirk, Kyle feeling every ounce of protest draining right the fuck out of him. "Because then I'll make it so you can't walk. How's that?" he purred.

Well, twist Kyle's arm.

He managed to feign a scoff, but made quick work to shove his pants off of his legs and toss them aside, watching as Kenny did the same. He popped open the lube and drizzled a bit onto his fingers, wincing a bit. Kenny nearly couldn't hold back his laughter. Kyle hated dealing with the goop, but the redhead knew well enough that he'd be rewarded for his suffering in the end. Kyle's eyes drifted down to Kenny's standing cock and he licked his lips, rubbing the clear solution around his fingers, thoroughly coating them with a thick sheen. A sudden hand in his hair began pressing down on his head, Kenny's own patience at its limit. Kyle snickered to himself, letting him shove him down to balance on one forearm, practically bowing down in front of his lover with his face right in front of Ken's dick. He smiled, letting his tongue dart out and lightly tease the head, very genially working his fingers back around himself. He could feel Kenny torn on what end to watch, feeling a surge of power in the situation. He spread his legs a bit, very slowly stroking over his hole to coat it before beginning to gently work in his finger. He gasped a tad, taking Kenny's cock into his mouth as his teeth parted. Kenny let out a yelp of pleasure, fingers methodically wrangling in Kyle's curls. The redhead moaned for show, bobbing his head agonizingly slow along the hot skin in his mouth. His tongue lapped around, playing in little dashes along the familiar rod. His finger pressed into himself in rhythm with his suckling, feeling his own cock throbbing with a potent pleasure.

Kenny was completely entranced in the show before him, feeling Kyle's teasing tongue and hollowing cheeks swallowing his cock with earnest. Watching Kyle working in his second finger into himself, scissoring and thrusting to get ready for what they both wanted so much. "Like that?" he grinned as Kyle let out another moan, giving him a light thrust into his throat. Kyle backed up for but a moment to recover from the sudden intrusion before diving himself right back down to envelop the hardness once more. Needy green eyes shot up to lock into Kenny's and he beamed, knowing that desperate expression anywhere. He held on tightly to Kyle's curls, beginning to pulsate his hips in and out of Kyle's throat. The redhead whimpered, forcing his third finger into himself and relentlessly going at it as Kenny assaulted his mouth. It was too hot. Kyle was beside himself, lost in the pure delectation of the idea of being used like this; being forced to swallow Kenny's cock, humiliate himself just for the blonde's viewing pleasure. It was ridiculously arousing to the man, knowing that a single brush on his own dick throbbing beneath him might be enough to send him spiraling over the top already. But no. No he wanted that to wait.

Kenny watched those bright, stunning eyes slip shut, entire face focused on the flesh between his lips, the rest of him working to press back onto his fingers. Wanton moans broke the air through Kyle's used throat and Kenny shuddered, knowing that this wasn't going to last long, not with Kyle making those damn sounds. He grunted, ripping his dick out of the man's mouth and watching a little parade of spittle follow, raining down onto Kyle's chin. Those toxic eyes fluttered back open, focusing up on Kenny, fingers still obediently playing within the tight heat of his ass. The blonde shook yet again, quickly losing himself to Kyle's spell. He grabbed under Kyle's chin, hiking him up and staring down at him, grinning at Kyle still thrusting into himself. "Tell me what you want," he demanded breathily.

Kyle set his lips stubbornly. "You _know_ what I want, you fuck."

"Kyle," he warned, grabbing the back of his neck, watching as Kyle's fingers tore out of his ass, trying to catch himself as he was swung around and shoved face first into their rug. He grabbed the discarded bottle from the floor and smothered his cock in the substance, stroking himself as he stared at Kyle's opened form. "Tell me what you want or I'll leave you here to fuck yourself, how's that?"

"Bullshit," he sneered, pressing his ass back against Kenny's erection. He knew just as well as the blonde that there was no way Kenny would just waltz away from him now. Kenny grated his lip between his teeth, his cock slipping through the lube on Kyle's ass, jaunting up the skin and feeling the heat he desperately wanted around him. He groaned, pulling himself back and securing Kyle's hips in his hands, holding him still from his grinding and watching him writhe with a pathetic whine. "Ken, come _on_!" he insisted.

"Tell me what I want to hear first," he sang, reaching one hand up and shoving Kyle's head back onto the carpet.

He swung his head to the side, clenching his eyes shut and growling. "God _dammit_ , just fuck me!" He caved, beyond any hope of patience or willingness to keep from the subject at hand.

"Atta boy," he chuckled, grabbing his cock and slowly pressing it up against Kyle's entrance. He felt Kyle go rigid and holding his breath as he began gradually breaking through the tight muscle. He worked his way down to the hilt, balls crushing against Kyle's ass. The redhead's eyes were slammed shut, fingers digging into the carpet frantically as he tried to adjust his muscles. Kenny bit his lip, trying to hold himself still as Kyle began contracting around him, squeezing his dick in a vice grip. He let out a strangled moan at a particularly hard clamp around him, his fingernails digging into Kyle's hips.

The redhead took a few throaty breaths before settling with a shudder, the heat shoved inside of him making his head spin. He grunted, pushing himself back further along Kenny's dick and shaking his ass. The blonde took his cue, wasting no time and beginning to push in and out of the smaller man, the lube between the both of them slicking around his skin, letting him practically fall into the tight walls drawing him in. Kyle whimpered, his shoulders shaking as he pressed back against him, giving back everything he was given. The sound of hips slapping against his ass was echoing around in their small living room, the sound of the television completely drowned out as they focused on one another. "Fuck," he whined, rubbing his cheek against the rug, blinking rapidly and fighting off pleasured tears.

Kenny's nails began taking minds of their own, slowly scraping down Kyle's sides and back. He leaned down, sinking his teeth down onto a cluster of freckles resting between the man's shoulder blades. He listened to a desperate moan snake its way out of the redhead and grinned, his hips continuing long, deep spears inside of him, Kyle's body swallowing each thrust compliantly. His cock was pulsating, engrossed in the warmth and welcoming hold surrounding it as he continued pressing along. "You like that, Kyle?" he murmured, rubbing his forehead on the man's back, feeling a sheen of thin sweat already beginning to pool over the pale skin.

Kyle bit onto his fist, letting his hips do the talking for him as he violently pushed back against the invasion. Ken glanced up and chuckled darkly, re-grasping Kyle's hips, holding him steady as he picked up his pace, his balls slapping against Kyle's perineum harshly, trying to jolt the redhead forward with each impact. "Jesus _Christ_ ," he screamed from behind his fist, white teeth sinking into the flesh and leaving behind dark red indentations.

The blonde smirked cockily, grunting with effort to fill up the man beneath him, watching his dick disappearing into Kyle's ass over and over. It filled him with a strong rush of accomplishment and need. He needed to keep seeing such a beautiful sight, needed to hear Kyle keep making those subdued noises he was trying so desperately to keep down. He reached forward, ripping Kyle's fist out of his mouth. "No, I want to hear you," he ordered, watching Kyle's brows furrow and his teeth clench. His head shook, sweat-licked red tendrils bouncing over his head as he continued pushing back against the blonde. "Fuck," he hissed as Kyle clamped down his muscles around his dick.

"A-ah…" Kyle's mouth dropped open and the sound escaped without his permission. Kenny grinned, knowing that Kyle was always pretty adamant about trying to stay quiet, but it'd never worked in the past. He doubted it'd start now. "Kenny…" he moaned lewdly, his nails digging into the rug once more. He felt Kenny's hand still slick with lube work its way underneath him and grab around his leaking cock. "Oh, oh god," he panted. "Please, _please_ ," he begged.

Ken tightened his hand around the skin, shamelessly pumping down on him as his hips careened forward on their own accord. "Shit, Kyle," he hissed, free hand digging into Kyle's side and forehead leaning against the man's back, the both of them rocking along to his chosen rhythm. "Fuck fuck _fuck_ ," he cried out, his body losing itself to every ounce of pleasure it could possibly muster. He gritted his teeth, everything around him but Kyle becoming lost as his vision blacked out for a moment, his climax startling the both of them as his heat escaped deep into his fiancé's ass. His hand never stopped going, listening to Kyle's pleading moans as he kept pressing into him until he couldn't take it anymore. He ripped out of him and let go of his dick, earning a high-pitched whine from the redhead. He grabbed the man's shoulder and flipped him onto his back, coming over top of him and re-grasping the throbbing skin, lowering his head down to suckle on the head earnestly.

Kyle gasped, his body arching into the unexpected warmth engulfing him, Kenny's tongue playing a sultry dance over his slit as his hand continued working him furiously. "Fuck, Kenny!" he screeched, his head flying back and his entire body lurching up as he came, the only thing holding him down on Earth being Kenny's loving hands. The moment was over almost too soon, his entire body quivering as he finally fell back to the ground, heavy pants breaking from his chest. He weakly looked down, seeing Kenny swallowing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before his head collapsed back and a satisfied smile played over his lips. A blonde head popped up over him and winked.

"So, did I make it up to you?"

"Mhm," he muttered exhaustively, grabbing Ken's shoulder and yanking him down beside him, their limbs curling around each other's reflexively. "I'm just so forgiving," he murmured into Kenny's neck, taking a shuddery breath.

Kenny laughed, kissing his head softly. "That and I'm just so good at satisfying your ass," he teased, slapping it a bit and making Kyle jerk.

"Don't be a dick," he said, swatting at him listlessly. He quickly slapped a hand over Kenny's mouth and looked at him unamused. "And if you make any kind of dick pun I swear you'll be lacking yours," he warned.

Kenny pouted, shaking his hand off. "You're mean."

"I just know you too well," he said cheekily, leaning forward and kissing him softly. He sighed, struggling to sit himself up, letting Kenny aid his ascent. "I need to clean up," he said tiredly.

"Do so," Ken nodded him along, getting to his feet and helping the shaky-legged redhead up onto his own. "After sex burgers?" he offered hopefully.

Kyle laughed and nodded. "Fine by me. Order 'em and we'll go pick 'em up after bit." Kenny grinned, kissing him again and watching as Kyle slowly made his way towards the bathroom. He smiled crookedly before shaking his head, grabbing his jeans and tugging them back on, grimacing at the lube and cum still on his dick. He'd have to wait for Kyle to clean up before his turn, the redhead was always pretty insistent on that note. He walked over to their kitchen and ripped open their menu drawer, grabbing one for Ronny's Diner and opening it to their sandwich section.

" _Kenneth, this is no time for sustenance_ ," a voice appeared out of left field. He jerked, looking around and blinking confusedly, finding no one.

"Hello?" he said, cocking his brow. He could hear the shower down the hall but nothing else.

He shook his head a bit, making way back into the living room, thinking he was just hearing things as he was coming down from his high. It wouldn't be the first time. Another voice made him yelp, " _We're sorry, Kenneth, but this has to_ _happen_ _**now**_."

"What has to hap-" he stopped, feeling someone shoving his back, sending him careening down towards their coffee table. He shut his eyes, bracing for impact, knowing exactly where this was heading. A sickening crack rang through the living room, Kenny's body collapsing on the floor. Clear spinal fluid began dripping from the side of his mouth, blue eyes emotionless and faded.

"Ken?" Kyle's voice rang through the apartment. The two figures in the room looked at each other before vanishing out of sight, back to where they had sent Kenny.

Kyle blinked from inside the shower, perking his ears and listening for the blonde's response. He groaned, quickly scrubbing off the remaining residue from his thighs and shutting off the cold water, snagging his towel from the rack outside the stall and wrapping it around his waist. He hurriedly made his way out into the living room, eyes widening at Kenny's corpse sprawled on the ground before crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "It's amazing how you can fucking die after sex but never before," he scoffed. He sighed and shook his head, making his way over to the blonde's body and reaching down, grabbing him under his arm and grunting with the strain of moving the deadweight. He slowly pulled the body over towards their spare bedroom, the one that was _supposed_ to be Kyle's office but had instead somehow turned into their damn mortuary. Kyle was fine with that in a way, he didn't particularly want to stare at Kenny's corpse all day.

He managed to get him into the room, dropping him slowly to the ground and kneeling beside him, closing Ken's eyes and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Hurry back, Asshat," he murmured against his skin. He got to his feet and headed out, closing the door behind him and sighing, walking over and grabbing his phone. He scrolled through and held it up to his ear, listening to the ringing and glancing around at the mess of clothes strewn about. "Hey, Stan," he said lightly, reaching down and grabbing Kenny's discarded shirt, throwing it towards their bedroom. "You up for meetin' for dinner?" He paused, looking down at the floor and smirking. "How about some burgers and beer?"


	3. Hesitation Within the Pearly Gates

"… **For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways."** _ **–Psalm 91:11**_

At a certain point, though he couldn't exactly pinpoint when, Kenny had become bored with the routine that followed his deaths. Walking through the white plane, waiting to see which way he was being thrust towards. More often than not, he was being thrown down into Hell, which wasn't too surprising. He had a hell of a reputation down there for not exactly being the greatest guy. Hell, his and Kyle's constant premarital romps were enough to damn him for all eternity should he actually stay put for once.

However, even he could sense that something this time was different.

He made his way down the void, heading towards the glimmering light at the end of the tunnel. Something here was unique to his usual circumstances. Something was warmer, deeper; whatever it was pulling him in like a moth to a flame. He tongued over chapped lips, heading towards the everlasting iridescence cautiously. As he came to the forefront, beams of glistening light bearing down on him like the sun, he genially stuck his hand into the emptiness, letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp as it sucked him straight down into the glare.

His body flailed a bit in panic as he was suddenly thrown up, far too used to being sent plummeting to the ground at this point. His chest arched, icy eyes blown wide as he ascended. It didn't take long before a clear picture was shown before him; the pure clarity of Heaven coming into view. He couldn't help but raise his brow suspiciously. He sure as hell didn't die being saintly considered he had just pulled out of his fiancé's ass moments beforehand. A strange, wormy suspicion began to work its way into his tattered soul and he took a deep breath. Something here wasn't right.

The air carrying him into the light gently swept him up through the clouds, kindly letting him drift to land on his feet in front of the pearly gates. He blinked, running a hand through his hair and trudging up to the podium in front of the massive barrier. "Sup, Pete," he nodded curtly at the angel holding his head high, a long staff held in withered hands.

"Ah, Kenneth," he smiled warmly, waving his hand and letting the gate slowly creak its way open. "We've been expecting you."

"Aannnddd that's what I'm afraid of," he sighed tiredly, shoving his hands into his pockets, _overly_ thankful he'd put on his pants before he'd died. He'd shown up in the afterlife one-too-many times au naturel. Certainly made staying faithful to Kyle when he wound up in the second layer of Hell in that state a bitch, but perseverance was one of the few traits that Kenny believed he could hold with pride.

As he stepped through the gates, he winced, feeling his wings springing to life on his shoulder blades. He looked back at his left one, raising his hand and stroking over the feathers curiously. He'd gotten them only a handful of times in his numerous deaths, and a part of him was still marveled by the idea that he had fuckin' _wings_. Of course, he much preferred walking as opposed to flying. He never stayed in Heaven long enough to get enough practice in and tended to crash into other angels and start little scuffles. Nothing like the full-on brawls he'd gotten into in Hell, but enough to make Paradise not quite live up to its name.

He smacked his lips as he walked through Heaven in a straight line, guessing that whatever was expecting him would just find him as he explored. He glanced around with a raised brow, seeing angels frantically scurrying around. Something was getting them all up into some kind of tizzy. The few times Kenny had visited, it was usually nothing but them lounging around laughing with one another and overall just taking pleasure in what the afterlife had to offer them. He watched two women gossiping worriedly in hushed whispers. He squinted at them a bit, cocking his head. They looked like they were in a full-blown panic. This was definitely not up to par with Heaven's usual standards he would imagine.

"Kenneth!" a voice called. He blinked, looking up to see three angels making their descent from above down towards him. He cocked his head a bit once again. They looked… _familiar_.

"Do I know you?" he asked as the group landed before him.

An angel at the forefront with long mouse-brown hair gave him a nod. "We met many years ago, Kenny." He gestured to himself. "I am Michael. These are Gabriel and Raphael."

He blinked once again before his mouth dropped in realization. "Oh yeah. You're the guys who made me lead your army with my amazing strategy or whatever," he wiggled his fingers with a small chuckle. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and smiled. "What's up?"

Raphael curled his finger and the three of them flew off, Kenny left standing there dumbfounded. "Hey, hey wait!" he yelled, running, cursing under his breath trying to get his wings to flap. He gritted his teeth, leaping from one cloud to the next and trying to keep up with him, his wings flittering rather uselessly. "Come on, you stupid pieces of-FUCK!" he shouted as they finally began to lift him up gracefully into the pristine air. His arms flailed as he tried to find his balance, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he attempted to gain a rhythm flexing his shoulder blades. He bit his lip, aiming his body higher and practically meandering after the three archangels. He finally managed to settle himself into a shaky beat, daring to glance down, seeing the angels still seated on the clouds staring up at the four of them with wide eyes. He cocked his brow. He was well aware the three in front of him harbored the most power of all of them, but he figured that the others wouldn't _still_ be impressed by them.

He shook off the wonderings, forcing himself to go a little faster, keeping a good few feet of distance from them. He scratched his head, the wind blowing his hair back like strands of wheat. "Where're we going?" he called.

"We'll be there in just a moment," Gabriel assured him with a forced smile. "We're just getting out of earshot of the others." Kenny's niggling suspicion grew with the archangel's expression. Something serious was going on. He rubbed his neck a bit and sighed, his mind fleeting to Kyle at the touch. He knew he'd lost any marks the redhead had given him. It was almost sad in a way. Kyle looked like a goddamn domestic abuse victim from the blonde's constant lovebites whereas Kenny's constant reincarnations wiped him clean every time. He sniggered under his breath, remembering one particular occasion where he'd come back and Kyle had made sure to return the favor and parade Kenny around town as he had to do with himself. He shook his head with a somber sigh, wondering how he was doing back on Earth; If he was as irritated with his death as usual. Knowing the redhead, it was almost guaranteed.

The three in front of him began to swoop down and he tried to gracefully follow, losing control as he tried to tip himself downwards and his wings freezing behind him. He screeched behind clenched teeth as he began to plummet, covering his face with his arms before gentle hands grasped under his shoulders. He looked up to see Michael and Raphael guiding him down, letting his wobbling legs settle onto the clouds before relinquishing him. "Thanks," he breathed out, brushing his hair back.

"Wings are always tricky the first few hours," Gabriel chuckled as the three of them took positions back in front of him, staring at him studiously.

"So…" he gulped, nodding a bit for a lack of anything better to do. "What's up?" he repeated.

The three of them looked at each other, Gabriel and Raphael gesturing to Michael who sighed. He straightened up, staring sturdily at Kenny with a serious frown over his face. "Kenneth, we need you again."

He nodded, his lips pursed a bit. "All right. But I haven't played a PSP in _years_ so I may need some practice-"

"No," he interjected with a headshake. "This is going to go _far_ beyond what you simulated then. Hell, I don't think its processor could even handle that amount of data," he rolled his eyes.

He backed up a tad and looked at them curiously. "Why? What's going on?"

Gabriel stepped up a bit, "Do you know of the boy Damien?"

He blinked. "Satan's son?" They nodded. "Yeah, I hang out with him now and again when I waltz on down into the fire," he waved his hand dismissively. "He's a dick, but it's better than talkin' to a demon who garbles nonsense as a language…or Hitler," he shrugged.

Raphael sighed, "Well, he's even more of a dick than you know of."

"Oh really?" he smirked. "Trust me, my opinion on him isn't great to begin with." He paused, noticing their tensed stances and clearing his throat. "What's he up to?"

"Another war, as you already surmised, Kenny," Michael crossed his arms, shifting his weight a bit atop their cloud. "We have gathered information that he now wishes to strike."

"And Satan's A-Okay with this?" the blonde asked. "I mean, he's the devil or whatever and I know he's tried it before, but he's been really chill the past few years."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers on his horn. "Apparently he resents the fact that he has to do so much work. The idea of punishment for betraying God isn't something that he's adjusted to very well."

"Well, have ya _seen_ his office?" he stressed. "Looks like a goddamn paper mill it's so overloaded with crap."

"Are you honestly taking the devil's side?" Michael's mouth dropped.

Kenny chuckled and shook his head, "Not takin' any side. I'm just sayin' what's down there ain't great…" he trailed off a bit and gnawed on his bottom lip. "So, what's so different about Damien leading as opposed to Satan?"

Michael began to pace between the two sides, his arms crossing behind his back thoughtfully. "His son is much more devious," he started lowly.

"Oh trust me, I know," Kenny nodded. "Dam's a sick freak when it comes down to it. Smart, but a sick freak."

"Indeed," he said softly. "He plans to not only send the _demons_ of Hell to our gates, but the mortals as well."

Kenny stared at him in bewilderment. "Mortals? They can fight? They can get up here?!" he gestured around back towards the glistening city they'd left behind.

"With the right spell, yes," Raphael said gravely. "And he's working on finding said spell. Their numbers are going to be astronomical."

"How…how astronomical are we talkin'?" He winced, not quite sure if he wanted to know the answer if he was being completely honest.

"Well, taking out children and the elderly who, even infused with their powers wouldn't put up much of a fight," Michael started, "Probably roughly ten billion."

Kenny's mouth dropped. "Ten billion," he repeated. "They had ten _million_ last time and we just barely beat them!"

"Our numbers have increased since that battle as well," Gabriel said hurriedly. "To…about…ten million," he winced.

"Oh hell no," he threw his hands up. "Dudes, look at the numbers. You're all pretty much fucked."

Michael scowled, stepping towards him with a domineering presence that nearly made Kenny crumble onto the clouds in panic. "If Heaven is fucked, then so is Earth," he spat. "Kenneth, this isn't a game this time around. We need you to be our Keanu once more."

Ken rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Okay, for one thing, that guy hasn't been cool for like, twenty years. For another, what the hell do you expect me to do about it?!" he wove his arms around frantically. "It's one thing to have me play a video game but you're saying that's not happening! In case you haven't noticed, I'm a goddamn mechanic, not a soldier!"

"Your profession is of little importance," Raphael sighed, crossing his arms. "You're the only one who's led this battle before. You're the only one who can strategize for us."

He blinked. "You'd be better off asking my goddamn fiancé for that. He likes war shit, I don't know anything about battle plans or whatever!"

Michael sighed, "Your _fiancé_ isn't able to come back from the dead as you are, Kenneth!"

Okay, that was a good point.

He glanced around at the three of them nervously, his chest tightening in worry. "What happens if you lose?"

"If Heaven is taken from God, then Earth will fall into Armageddon," Gabriel warned. "But there won't _be_ a Final Judgement if there's not God to judge. The afterlife and existence as we know it will become nothing but brimstone and horrors."

Kenny shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms over his bare chest and taking a heavy breath. "Okay. That would suck."

"Yeah, it'd really suck," Michael cocked his brow.

Kenny sighed, leaning head back and pursing his lips a tad. This was ridiculous. He just wanted to go home, have his burger, and fall asleep with Kyle. This prophecy bullshit was utterly crazy, something that he knew well enough that he had no place being involved in. "How can I do anything?" he finally asked, his voice a tired murmur. He knew they weren't going to give him much choice in the matter, so it'd be nice to know how thoroughly the three in front of him were planning on screwing him over in the long run.

"You would be bestowed with the powers of an archangel," Gabriel gestured to the three glowing figures.

"And what _are_ your powers?" he asked dryly. "Blowing a horn?"

"Very funny," he frowned. "The powers of an angel are bestowed upon them when they have a special mission. Your powers would adapt to the situation _of_ said mission."

Kenny stared at him confusedly. "I…I don't follow."

Michael rolled his eyes a bit. "Let's say the only way to defeat Damien was…" he looked up, tonguing over his lips in thought. "To…make a thirty pound ham sandwich," he flailed his hands around aimlessly. "Your powers would allow you to adapt to that situation and make the damn sandwich."

"So…I can…pretty much do whatever I want?" he smirked with a slight curl on his lips.

"No, not 'whatever you want'," Raphael mocked. "Whatever the situation calls for. In this case, you would most likely be able to communicate with all angels at once and coordinate our battle strategy."

He scoffed, "So, _exactly_ what I did before, just without a console."

Michael shook his head, a grave line on his lips. "No. You will be given these powers…and you will be on the battlefield this time."

"What?! Why?!" he blinked. "I'm _not_ a physical person, trust me. Ask Kyle. I'm a lazy sack of shit!" he waved his arms around in a bit of a panic. They were seriously telling him to step out in front of demons and possessed people and _Damien_ when he had no fucking idea how to even hold a weapon?!

"Because _every_ angel is needed, Kenneth," Gabriel insisted, pushing tightly curled black bangs out of his face. "And you'll hold as much power as the three of us. You'll be able to wield more strength than any of the other angels that will be in this war."

He gulped, scratching at his hair nervously. "B-but I've never-"

"We are estimating a good six months or so before this battle takes place," Raphael interjected. "That's plenty of time for you to be trained and up to par with what we need to fight."

"Six months?" he repeated in a deadened whisper. "But…but I don't want to be dead for six months."

Michael walked up and put a hand on his shoulder, a flash of kindness returning through the stern expression he'd held throughout the entire conversation. "Would you rather be held here for that long, or eternally placed in fire?" Kenny dropped his head and sighed. Six months. That was a _long_ time. A long time without home, without Kyle…he didn't want that. Michael's voice piqued again, seeming to read Kenny's dismay, "If you don't do this, Kyle dies," he said slowly.

Kenny's chest tightened and his entire body shuddered. It was an obvious fact, but he didn't particularly want to hear it being announced out loud. The blonde looked up at him and scowled. "That's emotional blackmail, Dude."

He shook his head, "It's the _truth_ , Kenneth. He and everyone else you've ever loved will suffer if you do not assist us."

He groaned, raking his fingers through his hair madly. This was insane. Everything about this situation just made no sense. Was six months _really_ enough time for him to be able to help save the fucking world? Kenny knew Damien well enough to know that he'd have his work cut out for him. The antichrist was always full of tricks and evil plots. He had a constant devious smirk on his face whenever Kenny hung out with him. He never minded it too much, but the idea of seeing that on the battlefield was way out of hand for him to deal with. He'd be a force to be reckoned with, and the blonde wasn't the least bit confident that he was the right man for the job.

He let out a long sigh, reaching back a bit and mindlessly tugging on a pristine feather riding the edge of his wing. A part of him felt as though the Earth would be doomed regardless of whether or not he took the job they were forcing on him. He'd much rather spend those last six months at home with Kyle, not up here with the three stooges and a bunch of military bullshit that he couldn't even begin to comprehend. He clasped his arms, rubbing up and down them self-consciously, feeling the group watching him intensely.

"I'd like a day or two to decide," he said softly.

"You need to _decide_ if the world's worth saving?!" Michael demanded.

He looked up and narrowed his blue eyes, "I want a day or two with my fucking fiancé. I want to talk to him since he'll probably be fucking homeless if I'm up here for six months considering I work while he goes to fucking school!" he spat. "I _think_ he should get a say in it!"

Gabriel put his fingers on his temple, shaking his head slowly. "We can easily manipulate that, Kenneth. We have _God_ on our side in case you're forgetting. We would make sure he would be able to survive at home without you."

Good start, but Kenny still wasn't satisfied.

"I want to talk to him," he said firmly. "Either I get my time with him or I outright _refuse_ to help you. I'd rather spend my last months on Earth with him anyway."

They all sighed collectively, looking at each other with exhausted expressions. Gabriel and Raphael shrugged and Michael shook his head, scratching at his beard listlessly. "Fine," he agreed. "Tomorrow you will return to Earth as normal. After the day is up, you will die and come back here, do you understand?"

"Yes," he nodded briskly, saying a silent thank you. If this war didn't kill him, Kyle would have once he got home after being gone for so long with no warning.

He frowned deeply, "We'll put you under a protection so Damien can't get to you. He probably knows that you'll be called back and is working on a way to defeat you. He most likely could, knowing how he operates down in Hell. It'll only last for the day, so if you don't die by then-"

"Kill myself, got it," he waved dismissively.

He nodded curtly. "Very well. We'll leave you for now, then, Kenneth."

"Think over your options carefully," Raphael warned. "Just because your lover says they'll miss you, don't take that as a reason to stay on Earth."

Kenny frowned and rolled his eyes, "Look, I _know_ the ramifications, okay? I just want to talk to him…and hopefully get some sex out of it since I might be on goddamn leave for half a year."

Gabriel shook his head, "No wonder you were sentenced to Hell so often," he chuckled lightly. Kenny smirked and shrugged. "Please just…remember what's important," he said softly as the three of them lifted off in front of him, giving him a last nod before turning and quickly retreating further into the clouds.

Kenny sighed, rubbing his neck and looking at the city in the distance. This was going to suck. He knew _exactly_ what choice he was going to have to make here. There really wasn't another option, as much as he absolutely _loathed_ the idea of what he was being forced into. He could only hope that Kyle would see it the same way.


	4. Snag in the Snare

" **You are of your father the devil, and you want to do the desires of your father He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth because there is no truth in him Whenever he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies."** _ **–John 8:44**_

There was always something that Damien admired about Hell, though he could never say for certain what it was. Perhaps it was the constant glow that emanated throughout the world. Perhaps the symphony of screams that echoed far and wide, piercing the ear with a delicate touch should ne find the beauty in the work that was being accomplished. Or maybe, just maybe, it was merely the familiarity. Only a handful of times had Damien wandered from Hell onto the human world. He found it rather…boring. There were those who suffered, yes. There were those who fought. Even those whose lives were truly something of legends to tell far into the future. But nothing about them quite piqued Damien's interest.

Maybe it was just the result of being surrounded by the worst of the worst for his lifetime. Stories from war-hungry mongrels, totalitarian dictators, and your run-of-the-mill serial killers were certainly more enthralling than anything a J-mart cashier could have told him. Few mortals that he'd encountered were anything special in the long run. Sure, he'd met a handful of geniuses, a couple world leaders in particularly extravagant gallivants throughout the mortal realm, but none of them were quite enough to sate Damien's appetite. He'd longed to meet a mortal that gave him a reason to not hate them as a whole as much. He wanted to feel _something_ for the wretched fools that had been sent to his home turf.

He thought he'd found that in Kenny McCormick.

For _years_ Damien was fascinated by him. Death was a game to the blonde. It was something that was worth both the demon's admiration and hatred. He hated the fact that the man was so easily slipping through cracks in the system he'd been raised to believe was the pinnacle of perfection. He loathed the way that Kenny could bounce back and forth between the realms when it took a lot of power and a lot of effort for Damien to do the same, even though he'd always been a much more powerful creature than the blonde could even conceive of. It was a baseless jealousy, Damien had always known that. But it was still there, seated deep in the confines of his ever-whirring mind.

Something about Kenny's easygoing attitude, the fact that death was nothing but an _annoyance_. It was compelling. He had taken to meeting with the cursed soul now and again on his multitude of trips down into the fiery abyss. Kenny was never afraid of him, usually acknowledging his presence with a mere nod or a snarky grin and a 'Hey, Dam'. Kenny McCormick wasn't afraid of anything, not even the devil.

And it pissed him off.

For years Damien had tried to figure out just what it was that made Kenny tic. How could he be the only mortal out of billions throughout time to slip in and out of destiny as though it were fabricated with the purest of silk? Ken was an enigma, the one thing in Damien's life that he couldn't put a definite answer to. It drove him near the edge of madness time and again, often finding himself lashing out on mortals serving their time as he wandered in and out of layers, surveying the destruction lying around him. Something within the blonde was keeping his soul from latching onto the afterlife, made it skid on by while others were caught in the thresher and torn asunder.

Damien knew, now more than ever, Kenny was a threat.

He'd only heard of the demons speak of a Chosen One that had defeated the armies of Hell so long ago, a mere child of nine at the time. No one knew of the child's name down in the turmoil. They only knew that he had managed to easily wipe out their army from the safety of a high rafter, watching the destruction unfolding below him with a nonchalance that infuriated the warriors. His skill and precision had led to a humiliating loss, sending his father and his demons back into the pits from whence they'd emerged.

It'd taken far too long in Damien's opinion to realize that it only could have been Kenny that had made it through. Everyone within the afterlife knew one truth: Those with gifted souls were the most powerful beings that could exist, pure, blazing forces to be reckoned with. Every archangel and archdemon fell into this category, and only a few mortals were able to squeeze themselves into the limelight. Damien had no doubts that Ken was one of them, that _he_ was the potential problem that would overthrow his plans. He had to do something.

Damien sighed, watching from a high post at the Gates as mortals were herded in, cattle driven to the slaughterhouse. A gentle clearing of a throat came from behind him and he whirled around, finding himself standing face-to-face with his most trusted of counterparts. He offered a crooked smirk, a fang glaring in the firelight beyond the gate. "Gragor," he nodded. "I trust you come bearing news?"

The golden-plated monster before him shifted a bit, long, timberwolf claws scraping up one arm nervously. "Master Damien, there is an issue," he said lowly.

Damien's ruby eyes narrowed dangerously and Gragor held his breath. "What do you mean 'issue'?" he questioned lowly.

He sighed tiredly. "Your father needs to speak with you about the Chosen One."

The demon grimaced, shaking his head lightly. "Very well. You are coming as well," he directed, hopping from his post and slowly floating down onto the ground. He looked up, waiting for Gragor's massive charcoaled wings to flutter him down beside him before they trekked off in the direction of Satan's base. He turned, watching the monster walking a few inches behind him to his side. "Tell me, Gragor, is there any good news that I can expect?" he asked plainly.

Deep, black eyes rose to meet Damien's and he shrugged, crossing his arms. "I don't know, My Lord, but it seems as though Lord Satan did not have any to share."

"Fantastic," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He looked to see a line of mortals slowly meandering to their side and smirked at their horrified faces. "Any luck on the spell I sent you to find, Gragor?"

He shook his head, "Not as of yet, Master Damien. Rest assured that it is being under constant scrutiny, however."

He nodded, "Excellent. I expect that you won't fail me."

"Wouldn't dream of it, My Lord," he smirked. Damien returned the expression before redirecting his attention to in front of him, shoving his hands into his ebony jeans. So things were not quite running along as smoothly as he had anticipated, but it was no matter. He needed the time to stall anyway, he had a much bigger operative than merely turning the mortals into his army. He had to find the way to bring Kenny down, and his father was behind him on that one.

Damien knew that his father harbored no ill will towards Kenny, in fact, he rather liked the blonde. But they both knew that he was the only possible thing standing in the way of their goal, and any good demon knows that sacrifices _must_ be made for the greater cause.

The two demons made their way to Satan's office, little ink-blotted demons scampering about to get out of the antichrist's way. Damien could practically smell the superiority leaking off of Gragor as he walked beside him and chuckled to himself. "Don't get so confident, Gragor," he said cheekily. "Remember that you yourself were once one of the 'receptionists' down here."

Gragor laughed and nodded, "This is true, My Lord, but I served my time and got tormented by those who rose above me. These little minions should be thankful that I am not so cruel."

"Hm," he mused with a raised brow and a smirk. "Considering the fact that you're a torturer, I don't think a lack of cruelty is something to boast about, my friend."

He smiled crookedly, jagged fangs showing deviously in the light. "I know when to release my cruel intentions, My Lord. When for yours or your father's benefit. These are not worth my time," he waved a giant hand dismissively at the other demons who hissed at him and scampered back to their respective posts.

"So long as you remain aware where your loyalties lie," he teased, beating on Satan's door.

" _Come in_!"

Damien shoved the door open, the both of them staring at Satan bent over his desk, staring at something intensively. "Gragor said you needed to tell me something?" he said coolly, stepping into the room and letting Gragor shut the door behind them.

Satan looked up and nodded solemnly. "Sit," he directed at the both of them. Gragor waited for Damien to take his seat before settling down beside him in an adjacent chair, the both of them looking up at the Beast expectantly. Satan threw off his reading glasses, rubbing his tiredly. "There's a problem regarding Kenny, Damien."

"And that would be?" he raised his brow, crossing his arms and legs, settling down into his seat.

"Heaven knows of our intentions," he frowned. "I'm assuming they placed a spy of some sort…"

"Double agent," Gragor muttered before quickly slamming his mouth shut, remembering just who he was in the presence of.

Damien looked over at him and cocked his head, "Now, Gragor. You have as much right to speak in here as either of us. There's a reason I invited you in. You know the lives of the demons better than my father or myself. What do you know?"

He sighed in relief before straightening up, looking between the two daunting figures. "Lord Satan, do you recall the spy in which you sent in the last war?"

He nodded, "Yes. He provided us with very valuable information, even though we weren't successful," he rolled his eyes.

"No one has seen him since word of the war began to spread," he said gravely. "We believe it was a double cross."

"Ah," Damien nodded. "Well then, there's your answer for that one, Pops," he shrugged. "And so what if they know our intentions? We're still outnumbering them vastly once Gragor finds the spell I'm in need of," he gestured over to his demonic counterpart.

Satan's face fell into a somber line and he shook his head, "I don't know if it'll make a difference, Son," he said honestly. "They have Kenny under a protection spell. He's going to spend one more day on Earth under the archangel's protection while he decides whether or not to lead them."

"Wait, how do _you_ know that?" he waved his hands in front of his face.

Satan crossed his arms behind his back and shrugged, "We anticipated a double cross, so we sent in another spy."

"Very resourceful, Lord Satan," Gragor complimented.

Satan smirked, "I like to believe so, yes. Thank you, Gragor…" he trailed off, looking down at Damien. "Just what was it you planned to do with Kenny?"

Damien scratched the side of his head listlessly, "Well the original intent was to throw him in a goddamn prison cell down here until the war was over."

Satan chuckled lightly, "I thought you of all people would be a little craftier than that, Damien."

He smirked, "Well that's why I said the _original_ intent. After a bit of thinking though, I found a way to send his soul somewhere where it'll get stuck," he raised his brow.

"Oh?" he blinked. "Where?"

"Purgatory," Damien said simply, giving him a dismissive shrug. "If we could redirect his soul and send him _there_ , then he'll be stuck in the middle plane and his soul won't be able to transcend as it usually does."

Gragor looked at him in astonishment, "How do you know that, Master Damien?"

"Because anyone with a basic knowledge of souls knows that," he scoffed. "When you're sent to Heaven or down here, your soul comes in one piece. When you're in Purgatory, it's scattered throughout, impossible for it to thread itself back together as it once was until your cleansing is completed. That's why it's a void of nothingness, because no souls can come together to make it into any feasible universe."

Satan nodded slowly with his words. "This is true, Ken's never been sentenced to Purgatory before, he's too…"

"Full of life, ironically enough," Damien finished with a dramatic eye roll. It was just another thing that irked him on about the blonde. He was way too happy-go-lucky for Damien's tastes, that was for sure. "That moron lives what moments of life he _does_ have to the fullest, as a mortal is supposed to, so he gets sent where a full-fledged soul is meant to go."

"How can you send him to Purgatory?" Satan crossed his arms skeptically. "Don't get me wrong, it's a great idea, but you can't just make Kenny a doll or something."

"When he's alive, no," he agreed. "But when he passes, I can."

They both looked at him with cocked brows. "You…you can, My Lord?" Gragor asked quietly.

Damien nodded, hopping to his feet and pacing between the two of them, looking up thoughtfully. "It took me a long time, longer than I care to admit," he scoffed. "But I found a way to change one's afterlife destiny," he grinned maliciously. "I practiced on a few mortals out there," he waved towards the door aimlessly. His face fell a bit and he sighed. "Purgatory is meant to cleanse ones soul so they may pass into Heaven, correct?"

"Right…" Satan nodded confusedly.

"I can make McCormick's soul so full of sin that each tattered remain will take centuries to mend," he chuckled. "It'll keep him out of our hair plenty long enough to achieve our goal."

Gragor's plated face broke into a wide, snaggletoothed grin. "That's a brilliant idea, Master Damien."

Satan held up his hand, "Hold it, there's a problem with that idea," he frowned.

They both looked at him and blinked. "What?" Damien questioned.

"You can't do it, not where he'll be," Satan sighed. "You know as well as I do that you're not at full power in Heaven. And being under the archangel's protection…it'll be impossible to get to him while he's up there," he pointed at the ceiling.

Damien opened his mouth to protest before it slowly began to close. "Fuck," he spat, crossing his arms and staring down at his shoes, a dark scowl settling on his face. "What about Earth?"

He shook his head, "He's under their protection up _there_ , too. And you know that their power exceeds your own, Damien. Besides, any damage you do to his soul up on Earth will repair itself before he makes his way to the afterlife. It'd be a giant waste of time."

He bit his lip and growled, ruby eyes darting for his answer. "There has to be _some_ way to get to him when he's in Heaven," he muttered. "If he only has one day on Earth, that's not nearly enough time for me to formulate a strategy to somehow follow him when he passes. But up there…" he trailed off, looking towards the stone ceiling and heaving a deep sigh. "Could your spy do anything?" he asked his father blandly.

"Perhaps the archangel's powers will have a weak spot that he can discover," Gragor inputted.

Satan nodded, "I don't know, but I'll see what they can do," he promised. "As of now, however, I believe that you need to try to formulate plan C, Damien. There has to be some other way to get Kenny out of our way."

Damien nodded slowly, sighing again and shaking his head. "Anything else, Pops?"

"Not to my knowledge," he shrugged. "I'll send for the spy to begin his work once Kenny arrives back in Heaven. You figure out just where you want to go from here."

"Right," he muttered, listlessly waving as he began heading away from the desk and out the door, Gragor on his heels.

Gragor came up closer to his side and looked at him worriedly as they passed through the demonic crowd once again. "Don't worry, Master Damien," he offered optimistically, "You can outdo any mortal, and this Kenny is no different."

Damien chuckled a bit and shook his head, "Oh Gragor, you're so wonderfully naïve," he looked at him amusedly. Gragor's face contorted into confusion as Damien's fell back into a dark, plotting frown. "McCormick is _very_ different," he said lowly. "He's the one thing that's in our way. Taking him down is a bigger objective than overthrowing Heaven itself." Gragor stared at him, speechless, wondering just how much of a threat Kenny actually posed to them. He'd been in the last war himself, but never listened to the rumors circulating that a child of all things had defeated them. But seeing the serious look in Damien's stare, sensing the tenseness between the boy and his father…he was beginning to understand the major concern that was buzzing about.

Damien sighed, brushing dark, thick locks from his eyes as they made their way back towards the gates, eyeing more mortals as they walked. Damien couldn't help but marvel at them in a way. They were all so ordinary. None of them had the slightest bit of a threat within them. Kenny was more powerful than the entire lot of Hell put together if he came through for the forces of Heaven, and Damien knew it. He growled, his claws digging into his palm as he clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing precariously. Something had to be done and it had to be done _soon_.

Catching Damien's attention was going to be Kenny's biggest regret. He could guarantee it.


	5. Go With God

**"Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you"** **_–James 4:7_ **

Waking up back in his and Kyle's bed was nothing new. Kenny often looked forward to it when he finally came back from what Kyle referred to as his 'trips'. Sometimes he'd come back mid-afternoon and nap the day away until Kyle came home from classes. Now and again he'd pop up in the middle of the night, opening his eyes to find Kyle slumbering peacefully, holding onto Kenny's pillow. He usually looked forward to those nights the most, gently taking his pillow back and gathering the redhead in his arms, laughing as Kyle mumbled out his dreams. More often than not he found he was the star of said dreams, and spent the night holding him and listening to whatever Kyle's mind had imagined for them before finally drifting off to sleep himself.

Today, however, a quick glance at their clock showed it was about four o'clock in the afternoon and he sighed. He sat up and stretched, scratching at his hair and smacking his lips tiredly. Apparently they weren't too adamant on giving him a _full_ day with Kyle, the angel bastards. He knew it was important, but that didn't mean he couldn't be bitter about it. His ears perked to the sound of Kyle's voice coming from the outside, a quick sniff from his revitalized senses picking up a heavenly smell. He licked over his lips and slowly clambered out of bed, carefully stepping on his newly-formed legs and giving them a few test stretches, gently hopping in place to get the nerves firing correctly.

When he finally felt stable enough to walk, he made his way towards the front of the room, tearing open the bedroom door and glancing down the small hallway towards the main portion of their apartment.

"No, Ma," Kyle's voice irritably growled from the kitchen. Kenny snickered. The weekly motherly phone call that Kyle was forced to endure was always a treat. He made haste towards the room, seeing Kyle bustling around the kitchen grabbing spices out of cabinets as Sheila's voice burst through his speaker phone lied out on the counter.

" _I really think you should consider it, Kyle!"_ she pleaded.

"Ma, Kenny. Is. _Catholic,_ " he emphasized with a hefty sigh.

" _So you'll get married in a church?! Kyle you'll be the first Broflovski to do that and that is not acceptable!"_

He groaned, tipping his head back as Kenny leaned against the archway leading to the living room, smirking at the show taking place. He watched Kyle shaking seasonings into a stockpot, grating his teeth angrily. "I'm also the first Broflovski man to be marrying another man, Ma," he reminded her. "And maybe we just won't do a religious place."

Sheila huffed a few times, sounding completely dumbstruck. _"Do you want to get married in the woods like a savage?!_ "

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Ma. I want all of us to dress like lumberjacks and the officiant needs to be in a grizzly bear costume or I will simply _die_."

Kenny placed his hand over his mouth, hysteric tears trying to leak down his face as he tried to keep his laughter silenced. Sheila paused for a moment, _"Kyle, are you being sarcastic with me, young man?"_

"No, Mother," he scoffed, grabbing a wooden spoon from beside him and stirring his food tiredly.

" _Kyle, you are getting_ ** _married_** _, you need to start planning!"_

He slumped and shook his head, "We've only been engaged for four months, we haven't even set a date yet. I'm not exactly prepared to pick a goddamn color scheme! You know I'm not the artsy type," he sighed.

" _Well if you'd let your mother help you-"_

"I'm a grown-ass man, Ma!" he snapped. "I can handle it!"

She huffed once more and Kenny could just see her on the other end shaking her head in disbelief. Living away from his mother made Kyle a lot braver when confronting her, but God help him if they were in the same room. Announcing their engagement to his parents had Kyle meek and scared out of his mind that she'd snap. Luckily enough she started crying and hugged Kenny until he was sure he was going to die again. _"Well, where's Kenny in all this?!"_ she demanded. _"Has he helped you think of anything?"_

"He's busy at work, Ma," he replied quietly, stirring his food still, letting the steam rise up into his face exhaustedly.

" _And you're busy with your school work,"_ she reminded him. _"Why don't you two come visit and we'll work on some basic plans?"_

"Yeah, fine, Mom," he conceded, just ready to get the conversation over with. "I'll see if he can take a few days off over my spring break."

" _Good_ ," she said in a chipper tone.

"I gotta go, Ma," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm making dinner."

" _Okay, Bubbeleh. Love you,"_ she said.

Kenny smirked as Kyle bristled. God, how he still hated that nickname with a fiery passion. "Love you, too, bye," he said hurriedly, grabbing his phone and shutting it off, slamming it into his pocket with a grunt. "Fuckin' planning bullshit," he muttered to himself. "Why the fuck can't weddings have a fucking prepackage?!"

"Because then your mother can't get on your nerves," Kenny teased.

Kyle yelped, whipping around and dropping his spoon to the floor with a clatter. "Goddammit, Ken!" he snapped. "Warning next time!"

"Sorry, sorry," he held up his hands in defense, watching Kyle going to clean up his mess with a tired sigh. He walked over, grabbing the spoon from Kyle's hand and taking it to the sink to rinse off. "Whatcha makin'?" he asked.

"Spaghetti," he smiled tiredly. "That homemade kind you tend to eat until you bloat up to Cartman size."

He snickered with a shrug, "Can't help it, Man. You're an awesome wife."

" _Future_ wife, Buddy. Don't get ahead of yourself," he rolled his eyes amusedly as Ken came back with his utensil. He reached up and grabbed around Kenny's neck, pulling him down and kissing him deeply. They broke apart, leaning their foreheads together. Kyle sighed contentedly as Kenny's arms wrapped around his waist. "You doin' okay?"

He shrugged, smiling a bit. Kyle always asked him that when he came back, though he couldn't be that surprised for the constant concern. Kyle had seen him go in some pretty gruesome ways before. "Yeah, I'm good. How're you?"

"Annoyed," he scoffed, breaking off and turning back to his sauce, grabbing the spoon and stirring again. "She's freaking out that we're not doing a traditional Jewish wedding."

Kenny cocked his head and raised his brow. "Do…you want to?"

"Not particularly," he shrugged. "A chuppah is pretty ridiculously expensive to rent and we'd have to choose if we'd break the glass together or each do one and it just adds a lot of little shit like that that I'm not willing to deal with," he groaned, looking back at the blonde with desperate eyes. "Can we just fucking go to a courthouse and like, do it in secret? Have Stan and Fatass be our witnesses and just go from there?"

Kenny snorted, "The only place you'd be goin' from there is the graveyard because your mother would murder you."

He sighed dramatically, "It's true." He lifted his spoon out of the pot, blowing on it gently and holding it up to Kenny's mouth. "Tell me if it's up to your standards." Ken smirked, knowing that Kyle knew that stale bread was plenty up to his standard, but obliged, taking a taste and shivering. Kyle's cooking was something that he could never get enough of. And losing that for six months would be a bitch…His face fell into disappointment with the reminder as Kyle's followed suit. "Does it need more garlic?" he blinked. Kenny shook his head, his mouth twisting a bit. He had no fucking idea how to approach the subject at hand. Kyle noticed his tenseness, tossing his spoon onto the counter and turning down his sauce, staring at him in concern. "Ken? What's wrong?"

Kenny smiled. Kyle could read him like a book. He sighed, turning and walking around the small bar separating the kitchen and living room, plopping himself down onto a stool and staring across the way at Kyle's worried face. "Kyle…" he sighed irritably and scratched at his hair. "What would you say if I said…I was going off to war?" he winced.

Kyle's brow slowly raised in suspicion. "Well, first off I'd wonder where the fuck you're fighting since we're not in a war at the moment…" he trailed off with a smirk that confused the hell out of Kenny. "Second of all, I love you, Ken. I love you like crazy and think you can do anything you put your mind to, but you are _not_ soldier material," he chuckled, leaning down on the counter with his head propped up in his palm. "Is this your way of telling me you want to 'be all that you can be'?" he rolled his eyes.

He shook his head. "Trust me…I don't _want_ to…but I have to," he winced again.

Kyle blinked, "Ken. The draft's not active."

"It's not that," he groaned, looking at the light fixture above the island in frustration. "Look, something happened when I died," he said slowly.

"Yeah, I had to go out to dinner with Stan and listen to him bitch about Wendy bitching about us," he snorted.

Kenny cocked his head. "Okay, fuck my story for a sec, whaddya mean?"

"And I quote, 'Stan, Kenny proposed to Kyle! Why can't you do the same for me?! They're beating us and they've been together a third of our time!'" he mocked in a high pitched voice, breaking into laughter. "Then Stan threw up on her shoes in fright and, long story short, now he's sleeping on the couch."

Kenny snorted and shook his head. "Poor Marsh."

"Yeah, well, let's focus on poor McCormick right now," Kyle said softly. "Kenny, what happened?"

The blonde's smile dropped again and he shifted uncomfortably atop his barstool. Bluntness was the only way to get them both through this, as much as he hated the idea. "Heaven needs me for war," he said quietly.

Kyle recoiled back a bit in complete bewilderment, analytical green eyes scanning over the tired man in front of him skeptically. "Heaven, war, and needs you." He repeated. "That…is a weird-ass combination, Ken."

"Trust me, I know," he rolled his eyes. "Look, Hell is declaring war on Heaven and they need me to lead."

"Why do they need _you_ to lead?" he questioned, his heart going a million miles a minute and his brain not faring much better. He knew Kenny better than anybody. The blonde had never been the violent type, unless it came to a jealous rage over Kyle that'd happened a handful of times, but that sure as hell wasn't the case now. Kenny tried to avoid anything that could result in another death, it'd been his MO for their entire lives.

Ken shrunk down, putting his chin atop his folded arms and staring up at the redhead with a sigh. "Because I've done it before."

"What? When?" he blinked in shock.

"I think we were nine?" he shrugged. "Either way, they want me to do it again."

Kyle looked at him, his face falling into a studious frown that made Kenny's heart ache. "Ken…you wouldn't be acting this upset if it was a simple repeat of what you did when you were a little kid," he observed. "Something bigger is happening…isn't it?"

Kenny nodded slowly, leaning back up and grabbing Kyle's hands, leading him down to prop himself up on his elbows as they stared at each other intensely. "Ky…I'd be gone for six months. At least. And I'd be leaving by the end of today."

Kyle's face dropped along with Kenny's stomach, the only sound passing through the air the simmering of Kyle's marinara. "Six months?" he repeated in a whisper. Kenny nodded and Kyle's entire body seemed to slink at the notion. "I-I can't…keep the apartment for-"

"They said that'd be taken care of," he reassured him, clasping onto his hands tightly. "You could still go to school and not worry about the money. We have enough in savings for you to still get food."

"That's our _wedding_ fund, Kenny!" he protested weakly, jade eyes swimming with worry.

He sighed, "Ky, if I don't do this, there won't _be_ a wedding." He bit his lip at Kyle's still sinking face and gulped down a dry breath. "I-if Heaven loses, then Earth is toast. _Everyone_ will die."

Kyle dropped his gaze down to the counter with a heavy sigh, raising their hands up and pressing a soft kiss to Kenny's knuckles. Goddammit. When it was put like that, then the only reasonable option was pretty loud and clear, as much as it tore him apart. "Then I guess you don't have a choice," he murmured against his skin, opening his eyes back up into Kenny's. He sighed again, resting his forehead against Kenny's hands. "I don't like this," he said quietly. "But if that's how it is…then you need to."

Kenny nodded slowly, his heart sinking in a downward spiral towards his legs. He hated this. They _both_ hated this…But they knew it had to happen. Dealing with six months of loneliness was a little more tolerable with eight billion lives on the line. "I don't want to," he muttered again. "But…they're convinced that they need me. A-and…" he trailed off, not really knowing what else there was to say at that point.

"Ken…" Kyle started slowly, waiting for Kenny's gaze to meet his own once more. "If…if you're fighting up there a-and you…" he sighed, grating his lip frantically. "Can you die for good?" he could barely whisper.

Kenny stared at him, not knowing how to answer the question. "I have no idea," he said honestly. "But…if something like that _does_ happen…but Heaven still wins, I'll make sure someone tells you," he promised.

Kyle chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. "Great. I'm an army wife waiting for a telegram."

He smirked sadly, rustling his hands a bit. "At least you're a hot army wife?" he offered. Kyle rolled his eyes and sighed.

"This is gonna suck," he mumbled. "We haven't been apart for more than two days since we started dating," he smiled softly.

Ken shrugged listlessly, "Think of how _amazing_ the sex will be once I get back."

"I'm pretty content with how it is now," he laughed a bit before his face fell into a contented thoughtfulness, staring at the blonde.

"What?" he blinked.

He snorted, "Won't lie, it's _kinda_ awesome that the savior of the world is gonna be my husband," he teased.

Kenny smirked, "Yeah, you're gonna have a hero shoving his dick up your ass, how's that make you feel?" he wiggled his brows. He loved that about Kyle, how he'd always find _something_ positive to get them both going again, even when both of them knew they just wanted to break down.

However, the idea of a crying fest suddenly dissipated as Kyle's face shifted into a devious look that sent Kenny's body into an automatic stir. "Like I better get a hero's farewell if you're going to be shipping off so soon," he purred. Kenny stood up in silence, walking behind Kyle who watched him confusedly as he grabbed a bowl and ladled some of his sauce from the pot, turning off the stove. He blinked rapidly as the blonde threw open their freezer and grabbed a few blocks of ice, tossing them into his bowl and walking out of the kitchen towards the bedroom. "You're not eating a bowl of sauce, Kenneth!" he lectured. Kenny walked back out and smirked at him, chuckling darkly. Kyle backed up a bit in confusion as Kenny walked up to him and captured his lips in a deep, delicious kiss. Kyle moaned softly, running his hand up Kenny's back and grasping up through the golden strands he so loved. He yelped as Kenny's arms suddenly moved and knocked his knees out, swooping him up into his grasp. "Oh no, you put me down, Dickhead!" Kyle sneered, smacking his head.

Ken placed a chaste kiss to his neck, starting to walk back to their bedroom as Kyle cursed frantically, trying to get himself out of Kenny's grip. "Hey, I'm the hero, you're my pretty damsel in distress," he smirked as Kyle glared at him viciously.

"I am _not_ a fucking dam-WHOA!" he screeched as Kenny dropped him onto their bed, his face slamming into his pillow. "Fuck. You," Kyle growled.

Kenny chuckled that deep laugh again and Kyle shivered, lifting his head to see Kenny's pants being thrown onto the ground and letting his eyes linger on the cock a few mere inches from his face. He couldn't help himself, darting his tongue out and letting it glide slowly over the head, Kenny shuddering excitedly at the enthusiasm. "You don't seem _too_ mad," he observed, reaching down and roughly tearing off Kyle's clothes, rolling him around and fighting with the fabric viciously as Kyle just tried to keep himself from being flung off the bed. He shook his head in a daze as he felt his boxers being slowly inched down his legs, feeling Kenny taking in every bit of his skin as it was revealed in the bright lighting of their room.

His clothing was thrown to the other side of the room, Kenny making damn sure that he couldn't even _consider_ putting them back on. He smiled and winked at Kyle before hopping onto the bed over top of him, straddling his hips and watching Kyle's eyes beginning to darken, a moist, pink tongue darting out over full lips. Kenny's breath hitched as Kyle's slender hands slowly slid up his arms, thumbs rubbing over firm muscle. "I love you," he said softly with a smile.

Kenny smiled back, his heart skipping a beat as he leaned down to kiss him. "Love you, too," he murmured, dipping his hips down and grinding slowly along Kyle's skin. Hands began aimlessly wandering around one another, each of them trying to commit every inch further into their memory, knowing that this could be their last time for this. Nails scraped along skin and soft gasps broke through the air as their hips continued pushing against one another's.

Kyle moaned, his head turning to its side as Kenny bit up his chest and latched onto the crook of his neck, suckling viciously against the alabaster skin. Kyle's hands wrapped around Kenny's back, nails scraping up his spine as the teeth nipped against him relentlessly. His eyes creaked open, finding the bowl sitting on their nightstand and he couldn't help but shake his head a bit. "Ken?" he asked breathily.

"Hmm?" Kenny responded, still focused on his determination of making a hickey that Kyle could touch for the entirety of their time apart.

Kyle laughed a bit as his tongue flicked the skin. "What's up with the sauce?"

Kenny chuckled, finally pulling back and staring at his mark with pride before shrugging. "Well I really want sauce but I also really want you…so I'm going to lick that fucking sauce off of you."

Kyle burst into laughter, shaking his head. "Guess I won't have to worry about vampires then," he joked.

"Nope, only my teeth get to sink into that pretty little neck of yours," he taunted, tracing a finger up his jugular.

Kyle smiled, cocking his head a bit with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, when you die…you take whatever you're wearing with you, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," he nodded, raising his brow a bit. "Why?"

Kyle reached up, pressing his palms on Kenny's chest and pushing him back a bit over his legs, sitting himself up. He reached over into his nightstand and pulled out a small box, tossing it to the man. Kenny opened it, his eyes widening as a ring similar to Kyle's popped up. He looked at the redhead in bewilderment as he shrugged. "I'm not the fucking chick of this relationship for one thing," he elaborated. "You get one, too."

Kenny chuckled, pulling it out of the box and turning it a bit in his hand, watching it glint in the light. "When'd you buy this?" he asked.

Kyle's face erupted into a blush and he shied down embarrassedly. "Uh…last year?" he winced.

"What?" he blinked.

He shrugged, "Ken, we both knew it was going to happen…" he said quietly. "I was actually going to propose to _you_ on our last anniversary but…you kinda died," he chuckled dryly and Kenny cringed. "I kept trying to find the right time to do it, but it was just a total shock on my nerves so I decided to wait until I was fairly certain you'd be alive and I could get the balls to go through with it…Then you come home and fall on your face and the next thing I know _I'm_ the one saying yes," he snorted.

"Why Kyle Broflovski, you romantic," he batted his lashes, slipping the ring onto his left hand and smirking at the still-blushing redhead. "So since _you_ were gonna make the first move, does that mean that I have to take your last name?"

"That's not how it works, Dickcheese," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Either one of us decides to take the other's name or we both just keep our own…" he trailed off and smiled a bit at him. "You'd _actually_ take my last name?"

He shrugged, "I would, I love you enough to take that torture, because, not gonna lie, I'd fucking hate spelling it."

"Join the club," he snickered, leaning up and kissing him briskly. "I'm pretty okay with spelling your name though," he murmured against his lips.

"Oh really?" Kenny smiled.

Kyle nodded, trailing kisses down Kenny's throat towards his collarbone. "You save the world and come home and I'll definitely be Kyle McCormick, no questions asked."

Kenny's heart sped up rapidly and he grabbed Kyle around his waist, holding onto him tightly, the both of them scraping lips and teeth along the other's skin. "Well then I guess I need to save the world, don't I?" he whispered hotly into his ear. Kyle merely clasped back around him, slowly falling onto his back and taking Kenny down with him.

The two of them fell into each other as they had so often before, every bit of passion and worry dancing between them on the fine hairs of their skin. The concern didn't matter, however. Nothing mattered but the two of them as time counted down towards Kenny's leave. Though, as they formed together, lost in a mist of sweat and screams, whimpers and fervent whispers of one another's names, a complete rush of pleasure and adoration wafting through the air, time was nothing. Everything stopped just for them it seemed; the air a heady, stifling aura that drifted between their thrusting bodies, their digging nails, their quick, desperate kisses. All that mattered to the two men in that moment, as it had been for so long, was each other. Heaven be damned.


	6. The Devil is Watching

" **Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed." -** _ **Proverbs 15:22**_

Damien and Gragor stood side by side, watching an array of demons scurrying about carrying books and scrolls from room to room as they leered from above atop a balcony. "Hopefully these cretans you chose are actually of use, Gragor," Damien said slowly, leaning against a pillar and watching them all with a scrutinizing gaze.

"They seemed to be, My Lord," he replied quietly, crossing his arms behind his back and letting out a long sigh.

"Then why is it taking so long?" he demanded, shooting him a sharp glare.

Gragor looked at him nervously, "Master Damien, the spell you're wanting has been hidden away for over a millennia. It's never been used. Finding it isn't quite as simple as a run-of-the-mill incantation."

The demon let out an angry breath through his nose, brushing bangs out of his eyes and turning his attention back to the frantic workers below them. "This is utterly ridiculous," he muttered.

"I agree," he nodded. "Someone hid this spell well. Probably whoever created it."

"Well _who_ created it?" Damien demanded.

He shrugged, "Not a clue, My Lord. We probably won't know until we find the damn thing."

"Hm," he huffed out, hopping onto the railing of the balcony and watching the little monsters below him. "Demons!" he snapped, each of them stopping in their tracks and looking at him with wide eyes. "You have until the end of this week to find the spell that I require," he said smoothly. "Should it not be found in that time, you will all be banished for torture and replaced. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Sir," a resounding, fearful chant arose.

"Good," he nodded curtly. "Keep up the effort then," he said, hopping to the floor below and beginning to walk out of the hold, each minion scurrying to get out of his way, their eyes locked on him in pure, unadulterated terror. Gragor watched him for a few moments before shaking himself out of his stupor and swooping down beside him, walking with him outside back into the layer of Hell. "Do not worry, Gragor," Damien spoke again, looking at him. "You will not be banished should they fail."

The monster breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Thank you, Master Damien."

He smirked, "Just be sure that you at least _attempt_ to keep my favor, hm?"

"Wouldn't do anything less," he smirked right back. Damien nodded, leading the way as the two of them trekked through ash, his eyes focused on the scarlet sky above them. "Something troubles you, My Lord?" Gragor ventured quietly.

"McCormick," he answered lowly. "I don't know what to do about him. The fucker is wily."

Gragor nodded, "Indeed he is, Sir. I've never liked him personally."

Damien snorted. "He's had his moments of procuring my favor, but it certainly was never often enough for me to have any doubts about sentencing him out of my way." The man licked over his fangs, remembering a handful of times that he and Kenny had been locked in conversation for hours. Kenny gesturing around wildly, laughing like a buffoon at events on Earth that he'd come from. Damien had heard many stories of his life and the people that it revolved around. Given he didn't pay much attention, never one for caring as to the mistrials of mere mortals. He was much more interested in the methods in which Kenny had died, which there had been _many_ throughout the years. Damien always wondered if a certain type of way that Kenny could go would make it stick, wondered if _he_ could be the one to bring it about and get the natural order flowing once again. He sighed, shaking his head tiredly. "What should I do, Gragor? What do you think would be the best course of action?"

Gragor paused, taking long, slow blinks and a pointed, slithering tongue breaking over his lips. "I'm not sure, Master Damien. Getting to him in Heaven would be impossible for a minion of Hell. We're all a little too obvious," he gestured around with a shrug. "I'm not sure _what_ would be able to break through Heaven's fortress to be honest, My Lord."

"Hm," he mused, lightly gnawing on his lip and coming to a stop in the middle of a barren field of charcoal. Gragor stopped with him, watching him curiously. Damien flexed his fingers, his eyes beginning to glow that deadly ember that Gragor knew could possibly spell disaster even for him. He watched as Damien held up his hand, narrowing his eyes. The demon recoiled as a clear vision appeared before them, Kenny's face popping out of nowhere in what looked like an ebbing portal to another realm.

"What on Earth..."

"Something my father taught me years ago," Damien replied simply. "Observation is key in war, Gragor. I won't be able to see him very well once he gets to Heaven, he'll be far too protected. So I can only hope the idiot reveals a bum knee or something of the sort while he's on Earth," he rolled his eyes. "I have to find _some_ way to get him out of my hair, I just don't know what to do."

Gragor nodded slowly, "You think there's any chance for us if we don't find the spell, Master Damien?"

"I'm not sure..." He watched Kenny staring off to his side, an absolutely goofy grin over his face. How _this_ idiot was his biggest concern he'd never know. Such power falling into the hands of such an irresponsible goon, a man who did nothing but work a menial job and goof off, it was almost an abomination of sorts. He didn't deserve the possible domineering prowess that could fall upon him. Damien hated to admit it, but he was teeming with jealousy knowing just how much the man was capable of when he himself hadn't the _slightest_ clue or care about such things. All Kenny wanted to do was eat, sleep, and get laid. He'd made his prerogative very clear in many of their talks. The thoughts trailed off, Damien narrowing his eyes as a small redhead rolled over beside Kenny, both of them naked and lying on a bed together, staring into one another's eyes and panting with sweat beading their bodies. "Who the fuck is that?" he muttered, staring at the two of them with blatant interest.

Gragor shrugged, not quite as enthralled with the possibilities as the one next to him. "I pay even less attention to McCormick's stories than you do, My Lord," he admitted.

"Kenny, stop it!" the redhead laughed as Kenny jumped on top of him, smothering his neck in kisses and bitemarks. "Goddammit, you asshole I have school tomorrow!" he protested.

"So? Just means that everyone will know you're _mine_ ," Kenny growled, nipping his earlobe. "Even when I'm gone they'll know to keep their hands off you," he teased, trailing his tongue up his throat.

Damien's eyes widened at the clear glint of two silver bands sparking off their left hands as they traveled along one another's bodies. A name tried to come to fruition in his mind, cursing himself that he didn't grant Kenny the courtesy of listening to at least one of his inane stories. He crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. He knew this. Kenny had mentioned him time and again for nearly six years, either happily spouting out stories or angrily stomping around from their fights. The name finally struck and he blinked. "That must be Kyle," he murmured, watching the small Jew beating listlessly on Kenny's shoulder before giving up and just leaning his head back, letting the blonde continue his assault with a soft moan.

"You know him?" Gragor asked, watching the two men with a face of utter disgust. Mortals were never creatures that he enjoyed, seeing them _happy_ did nothing more than piss him off.

"I remember McCormick rambling about having a boyfriend the last few years," he said, vaguely recalling the utter joy in Kenny's face as he told story upon story that Damien dropped in to listen to a few words here and there out of sheer boredom. "I remember particularly him saying he had red hair, because I called him a ginger lover," he smirked. Gragor chuckled a bit as Damien's face fell into a duplicitous grin. "Looks like they took their relationship a little further," he commented.

"Blech," Gragor stuck his long tongue out. "Mortals and their unions make me sick."

Damien broke from watching the men tumbling on their bed to his friend. "Oh?" he asked amusedly. "Why is that?"

Gragor rolled his eyes, "Have you ever heard couples who come down here together, Master Damien? Speaking of their 'unbreakable bond' or whatever just because they signed a piece of paper."

Damien snorted, looking back to the men. "I don't think they're married. I think they're engaged."

"How do you figure?" he raised his brow.

"Kenny hasn't come down to Hell bragging about being married, that's how," he rolled his eyes. "He would have told my father, I can guarantee that." He turned his attention back to his vision and smirked, watching Kyle's hands curl under Kenny's chin, pulling him in for a long, deep kiss. "But I think that this'll do just fine."

"What'll do fine?" Gragor blinked.

Damien's eyes went half-lidded, a claw tapping his arm slowly, drawing circles over his skin and his gaze focusing solely on the small redhead. "We found his bum knee."

* * *

 

Kenny and Kyle lied in bed together still, wrapped in each other's arms and soaked with sweat, but paying it little mind. "One more?" Kenny panted out, tonguing over his upper lip.

"I'll die," Kyle said exhaustively. "My dick will fall off and I will _die_."

Ken snorted, kissing his forehead tenderly. "Not gonna lie, I'm relieved," he chuckled breathlessly. "You wore me the fuck out, Broflovski."

Kyle smiled, flicking his arm and nuzzling into his chest. "Had to give you a proper, send off, didn't I?"

"There wasn't _anything_ proper about the things you just did, Babe," he grinned, laughing as Kyle smacked his head with a tired hand. Kenny kissed him again, turning his head and looking back at Kyle's alarm clock, his face falling. It was already 11:50. "Fuck...Ky, I don't wanna do this," he admitted softly, his chest starting to twist in worry now that their distraction was over with.

Kyle raised his head, his own face drooping at the reminder. "Ken, you need to," he said quietly. "Hell, I don't want you to, either...But if they say they need you then your only options are to help them or die...for good," he added with an eyeroll. "You'll be fine."

The blonde watched him and bit his lip. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I know you," he shrugged, tracing a finger along Kenny's stomach and chest. "You're a stubborn dickhead who always has to get his way," he forced out a smile. "Besides," he grunted, pushing himself up and landing with his chest atop Kenny's. "Think of _this_ as a reason to win: If you don't, and we all die, you'll be stuck listening to my mother for eternity stage whispering to me that she was right about you not being any good."

Ken snorted, "She still hates me, huh?"

"She doesn't hate you, you idiot," he shook his head. "But you know my mother. No one's good enough for me in her eyes. Or Ike for that matter," he sighed. He looked back at the man beneath him, his eyes scanning over the blonde's worried face and feeling his heart sinking. "You'll be fine," he repeated, trying to assure himself as much as Kenny. "I promise."

Kenny reached up, wrapping his arms around him tightly and nuzzling into his neck. "I hope so," he whispered. They buried their faces into each other's throats, taking deep inhales of each other's scents, letting time just pass them by. Their prayers were screaming desperately in their minds, hoping beyond hope that Kyle was right, that everything would be fine and Kenny would be back home in a few months a hero.

"Kenneth, it's time," a voice appeared, startling them both. They looked over to see Michael standing in their room, watching with pitiable eyes.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Kyle's mouth dropped, taking in the winged sight before him.

"Actually he's Michael," Kenny pointed. "Jesus is probably waiting up there," he chuckled. Kyle looked at him and smacked his head lightly. Kenny looked back at the archangel. "Can you like, wait in our living room so I can get clothes on?"

"Hurry," he sighed in aggravation, making his way out through the door.

Kyle sighed, getting up off of Kenny and helping him sit up, the both of them looking at each other, not wanting to relinquish their hands. "Didn't realize Heaven was sending a taxi service for you," Kyle murmured.

He shrugged, struggling to get onto his shaking legs and walking to their dresser, tearing out clothes while Kyle redressed himself behind him. "They said if I didn't die by the end of today I'd have to kill myself," he said softly. "Kinda glad I didn't have to resort to that."

"You and me both," Kyle sighed, watching Kenny fighting to pull his jeans up with his off-kilter balance. He walked over, putting sturdy hands on his shoulders and holding him still as he dressed, his thumbs swiping over the broad muscle of his back longingly.

Kenny felt the movement and looked behind him as he finally managed to make himself half decent, turning and giving him a smirk. "Thought you'd die if you got any more," he winked.

Kyle shrugged, "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy a look, does it?"

He snorted, "I suppose not." He reached over, grabbing a t-shirt and throwing it on, taking another look at the redhead and sighing. He grasped his hand lightly, stroking over the ring on Kyle's finger as he led him out of the bedroom and over to Michael waiting for him, looking through their DVD's on one of their shelves.

"We haven't much time, Kenneth," the angel broke from his scrutinizing and urged.

"I know, gimme a second here," he sighed tiredly, looking down at Kyle and trying to give him a smile, not able to do much more than a trembling curl of his lips.

Kyle stared at him before launching forward, holding around his waist and pressing into his chest. "Come home," he said sadly.

Kenny nodded, kissing his head lightly. "I will." He nuzzled into the familiar spiced scent of Kyle and shuddered. "Love you," he murmured.

"Love you, too," he whispered, clutching him tighter.

"Kenneth..." Michael warned, eyes worriedly glancing at the clock.

"Fine," he grumbled, grabbing Kyle's chin, pulling him up and giving him a final, deep kiss, both of them pouring their everything into the simple gesture. He pulled back, letting out a deep chuckle. "When I come back, that wedding better be planned," he smirked.

"You would find a way to avoid helping, you dickhead," Kyle chuckled, shaking his head. He sighed, kissing him again. "Kick some ass, Dude."

He winked, "I'll be your dashing hero, just you wait and see." Kyle smirked and they unwillingly pulled away from each other, looking at the daunting figure standing staring at them with a hint of sympathy playing in his brown eyes.

"We're taking his body this time," Michael addressed Kyle. "So you don't have to hide him in that room."

"Good, considering six months would make it smell something awful," he raised his brow. Kenny scratched his head sheepishly, backing up beside the angel and cocking his head.

"So...how we doing this?" he asked.

"Like this," Michael said before touching his forehead lightly, Kyle's heart lurching painfully as Kenny's eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the ground in the blink of an eye. "Don't worry yourself, he felt no pain," Michael assured him.

Kyle nodded, looking at him with teary eyes. "Will you guys keep him safe?" he whispered.

"We'll do our best," he promised, reaching down and hefting Kenny's body up, throwing his stilled arm over his shoulder. "But...he's the one who's going to be doing most of the protecting. Hopefully I'll see you once more in six months, Kyle, bringing him home."

"Thank you," he smiled weakly.

Michael nodded, vanishing from Kyle's sight and feeling the warmth of Heaven pulling him home. His and Kenny's bodies rushed up through the realms of space and time, Michael wincing at the air's tension on his wings before they arrived briskly in front of Saint Peter's podium. "You have him?" Michael asked breathlessly.

Peter nodded, holding up a glowing orb of shimmering silver and blue light, hovering gracefully above his palm. He walked over to Kenny and held the light near his chest, both of them watching it shoot out in glowing beams, grasping onto the blonde and pulling itself inside of him. Kenny's body suddenly burst back into animation, his mouth gaping as he fought for a gasp of air, falling out of Michael's grasp and onto a cloud beneath him. "Fuucckkk," he groaned in a rasped tone, clutching at his chest and curling up into a fetal position. Everything _burned_. He'd never felt this before, wondering just what the hell went wrong.

"A soul re-entering the body is never a painless process in the afterlife," Peter's voice breeched through the pain kindly, reaching down and helping the boy onto his feet. "But now you will have your full strength about you."

"Huh?" he blinked, trying to fight off the pained thudding of his body and clear his blurred vision of the old man in front of him.

"Come," Michael curled his finger, walking through the gates. Kenny looked at Peter who gestured him forward and he took a deep breath, hurrying through after Michael. He once more found himself wincing at his wings springing to life, the stems tearing through the back of his shirt as the rest unfurled into two symmetrical and pristine forms. He rolled his eyes, catching up beside the archangel and looking at him curiously. "What did he mean?"

"When you die, sometimes your soul will scatter within you," he elaborated, grasping Kenny's arm and taking flight. The blonde yelped as they soared upwards, trying to get himself to be able to imitate his wings' movements. "Your soul came up here on its own since we made it so you wouldn't come to Heaven fully formed," Michael continued calmly. "You can utilize your powers completely, where were this one of your normal deaths, there was a possibility you wouldn't be able to, especially with the state you were in."

"Whaddya mean?" he asked, sticking his tongue out in concentration and getting his wings to flap finally, shaking off Michael's hand and trying for himself. Michael slowed his pace to keep with Kenny's baby steps, watching him carefully.

"Leaving Kyle left you utterly distraught," he explained. "Your emotions and your soul are connected. If your feelings outweigh the power of your soul on its own, it can throw it into chaos."

Kenny raised his brow. "I've died angry and upset before..."

"And your soul was broken. Upon such deaths, it took you longer than a single day to return to Earth, did it not?" he questioned.

The blonde blinked in surprise. "I...I never thought of that..." he trailed off, biting his lip. So many years going through this stupid routine and he never put the pieces together. He sighed, scratching at his hair tiredly. Not even ten minutes into this whole disaster and he was already feeling like an idiot, it didn't seem to be the best of starts to someone who was supposed to be the savior of Heaven. He looked up at Michael's stony face and gulped. "So...where're we going?"

Michael looked down at him and took a deep breath. "God has plans for you."


	7. Through the Ranks

**"Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness."** _**-** **Romans 12:6-8** _

Making way over the city of Paradise, Michael and Kenny flew side by side, Kenny trying desperately to keep his wings moving in a singular direction. He stole glimpses of the glittering area below him, brilliant white and gold beaming with sunlight and glaring into his eyes in a pleasant array of sparkles. It was surreal, something that he'd never had the chance to fully appreciate on his limited journeys into the clouds. He vaguely wondered if since he was going to be here for such an extended stint if he'd be able to enjoy the scenery now and again. Then again, hearing Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael talking about what an impending monstrosity this war had the potential to become, he figured he should consider himself lucky if he got so much as a goddamn smoke break.

Kenny sighed, watching angels as they passed underneath the two of them, grimacing at a number of them holding one another. Lucky bastards. This sucked. This sucked beyond belief, to be the one person on Earth that the angels entrusted with such a colossal responsibility. Why couldn't it have fallen onto someone who had nothing to live for? He crossed his arms, rubbing up and down the skin in distress. This was so much for him to handle so quickly. Only getting about seven hours with Kyle was not faring well for him. Kyle told him he believed that he could do it, and Kenny knew better than anyone that Kyle's intuition was usually fairly spot on. But there was always that chance that it had nothing to do with what Kyle believed would happen, but just what he hoped.

Michael stole a glance at the boy, his face drooping into sympathy. "Kenneth," he said, waiting for the blonde to tear his gaze from the city and look at him. "If you do this right, you will go home to him," he promised.

Kenny sighed and shook his head. "I'm tellin' ya, Mike, I think you have the wrong guy."

"No," he said firmly. "There is much that you can do that you've yet to unlock. Trust me, Kenneth, God is well aware of what He's doing." Ken fell into silence, looking back at the landscape as they began to near the outer limits of the central metropolis. A gentle hand grasped his upper arm, Michael beginning to lower them both towards the ground at a gentle pace. "Relax your back muscles," he instructed, watching Kenny struggling to get his wings under control, the both of them flinching and flittering madly. "Take a deep breath and just _relax_ ," he repeated.

"Easy for you to say," he gritted his teeth, trying to force a breath through his nose. "You're not the one being thrown into this shit." Michael shook his head subtly to himself, watching as the blonde awkwardly began to slow his flight.

"There you go," he coaxed, the both of them gracefully gliding down onto a cloud. Kenny's legs wobbled upon their descent and he took a deep breath, scratching through his hair.

"I hate flying," he muttered. "Too many fucking planes have crashed into me and too many birds have pecked my eyes out," he pouted. Michael smirked, touching his shoulder and beginning to lead him up to a grand, towering building, glimmering in the lights and shining upon their faces like a beacon. "Wow," Kenny murmured, looking up at the ornate designs of the spires.

Michael nodded at his awe, "This is where God spends most of His time," he said, starting to lead him past an array of armed angels.

Kenny raised his brow, "Didn't expect God to have such fancy digs. Or so many soldiers for that matter."

"They are merely a precautionary," Michael elaborated. "When word of the war spread, extra measures had to be taken." Kenny nodded slightly in acknowledgement, the two of them walking past the long row of guards to a marble staircase. They made their way up the landing, Kenny mentally cursing that God could have at least provided a damn escalator. As they continued onwards, Michael kept stealing glances at the mortal beside him. He had no inkling as to what God intended to do with the man, and he himself harbored a sliver of doubt that he'd be able to take on such incredible forces that possibly lied in their wake. But doubting God was not something he thrived on, he knew that He had to have _some_ idea of the ramifications that could beseech the lot of them.

They found themselves on the landing, Kenny staring as they continued onwards at the towering pillars looming over them, his mind flashing back to that damn documentary on Athens that Kyle made him watch. He remembered with a smirk that he got a 'thanks for indulging my nerdy ways' blowjob for it, so he couldn't exactly pinpoint it as something to loathe the memory of. "Kenneth, what are you smiling at?" Michael raised his brow.

"Blowjobs," he replied honestly with a shrug. Michael blinked and began rubbing his temple tiredly. The idea that his home, that the _world_ was in this boy's hands was positively staggering.

"Well, clean up your act," he ordered, curling a finger and leading him off to the side down a long corridor. "Blowjobs are the last things you need to be thinking of right now."

"Yeah well I have a feeling I'm going to be thinking about them a _lot_ since my primary source is separated from me," he retorted dryly, earning a frustrated groan from the angel.

"Come on," he bit, opening a large door and letting Kenny step inside. The blonde sighed, making his way to a large, round table set in the middle of a grand silver and blue room, raising his brow a bit. He noticed Gabriel and Raphael already sitting with a slew of other angels seeming to be waiting for him.

"Ah, Kenneth," Gabriel nodded. "About time."

"Kinda had my fiancé to bid farewell to," he said with an eyeroll. He looked at the other angels and gave a short nod. "'Sup?" Raphael gestured to an empty seat beside him and Kenny sighed, making his way over and sitting down. He clicked his teeth a bit as Michael took his other side, seeing all the angels staring at him in intrigue. "Fellas, I know I'm hot, but you gotta back off a bit. I'm a taken man," he smirked, flashing his ring a bit.

"You wish," Raphael chuckled.

Kenny shrugged sheepishly. "So...what's up?" he asked again, popping his lips on his last word.

"We have been waiting for you," a gentle voice called from the front of the room. All heads shot over to see none other than God and Jesus themselves making way for the table. Kenny's eyes lingered on God, still wondering just what the hell He actually looked like. The furry monstrosity always confused the living hell out of him, remembering hearing such a loving tone for the first time coming from Him and turning around to find a terrifying deformity staring him in the face. God nodded, "Hello, Kenneth."

He waved sheepishly. "God. Jesus," he nodded in greeting.

The man smiled and nodded, the both of them taking seats in large chairs at the forefront of the table, watching the blonde. "It's good to see you're doing well, Kenny," Jesus said.

"Well, as well as I could be bein' thrown into this crap," he raised his brow. "Ow!" he cried out as Gabriel reached over and smacked the back of his head.

"You're not talking to your friends, Kenneth," he reminded him sharply.

God held up His paw, "Gabriel, it's fine," He assured him. "He's right. This war is a load of crap," He rolled His eyes before settling them back onto Kenny. "Kenneth, what do you know of Damien?"

Kenny shrugged a bit. "He's...the antichrist, no duh. Uh, he's pretty fuckin' rude when ya get down to it. Always looks like he's got a plan or somethin' on his mind. I don't know much to be honest," he winced.

God nodded, "He's dangerous, Kenneth. Extremely."

"So I figured," he said softly. "Are you really so worried he can beat Heaven?"

Jesus tapped his finger on the table and sighed, "Kenny, our forces aren't meant for battle. You know this. You've _seen_ it." Kenny nodded slowly, remembering the absolute disaster of a training regiment their army seemed to have so long ago before he came in and took the reins. "Damien is pure evil, Kenny. He won't stop like his father. He won't stop until he has what he wants."

"But what does he even want?" he narrowed his eyes confusedly. "I mean, yeah, they don't like that they have extra work or whatever, but wouldn't destroying Heaven just make even _more_ work for them?"

"If Heaven is gone and the balance of power is thrown askew, it won't be 'Hell' anymore," Michael explained. "It will literally be all of us dead and suffering while Satan and Damien rule with an iron fist. There won't be any work involved, none that they don't choose to do at least."

Kenny took a deep breath, tonguing over his teeth. "Okay, but isn't Earth on a different plane anyway?" he raised his brow. "Why will Earth suffer if this happens?"

Gabriel leaned around Raphael, staring at him seriously. "Earth is kept balanced between the two planes. The power of both of them allows it to remain harmonized within space. If one takes too _much_ power..."

"Then it gets thrown off, gotcha," Kenny sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Jesus."

"What?" Jesus looked at him curiously.

"No, no," he waved him off and groaned. "This is...fucking crazy," he breathed out, looking at the angelic faces -and God- staring at him intensively. "What can I even do here? These bozos told me I'd be actually fighting," he frowned, gesturing to the three archangels around him.

"As you will be," God said softly. "Kenneth, there is much that you can do that we must unlock."

He blinked, "Like what?"

He smiled at him kindly, gesturing around the table. "These are the leaders of our army, Kenneth. They are going to be working under your guidance."

"Okay..." he cocked his brow, feeling a tad nerved at the way that they continued staring at him silently. He quickly counted, only seven total including his three little 'pals'.

"You know those three," Jesus waved to those surrounding him. "But you also have Jegudiel, Selaphiel, Uriel, and Barachiel," he pointed them out to him. Kenny nodded, waving to the lot of them. "They are archangels alongside Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael," he explained. "Just not as high ranking."

"Right," he nodded slowly, knowing there was no way in _hell_ he'd remember all these guys' names. "How do you do?" he winced.

Uriel crossed his arms, blowing a long strand of golden hair out of his face. "We're concerned," he said seriously with a frown. "You know nothing of battle and yet we are expected to follow you blindly."

Kenny flickered his eyes to God and Jesus, holding his tongue as he tried to remind himself of just who it was he was in the presence of. "Well that's what _I_ keep saying," he pouted.

"Uriel," Jesus reprimanded, "Kenny is not an ordinary mortal. His soul transcends even that of you or your brethren," he gestured around the table. "Remember your place." Uriel shrank down in his chair awkwardly, nodding in silence.

"What makes my soul so special?" the blonde blinked. "I mean, yeah, I can't fucking die which is a bitch, but is that it?"

God nodded. "Yes. Your soul regenerates, stuck in a constant loop of life and death."

"Normal souls," Jesus continued, "do not regenerate. Hence the reason they...stay dead," he shrugged. "But it does so because your soul is so powerful. It's resilient, not swayed by those of Hell."

He raised his brow, "Then...why did I keep going to Hell when I died?"

"Because you're a hopeless sinner," Michael rolled his eyes. Kenny snickered. He couldn't exactly deny that fact.

"Your soul can be _taken_ by either Hell or Purgatory," God said. "However, it belongs up here," He gestured around, pausing a bit. "Damien is the reason you kept getting pulled down below."

"Whaddya mean?" he blinked.

Jesus frowned, folding his hands atop the pristine tabletop. "He wants to destroy you, Kenny," he said seriously. "He hates that you have a power that he can never take control of. So he made it so your soul became redirected from its target and kept getting dragged down so he could learn more about you."

Kenny gaped at him a bit, looking at his reflection in the shining surface below him confusedly. No, he and Damien were never the best of friends, but he always _seemed_ to like it when he would pay him a visit on his trips. But the whole time he really wanted to _destroy_ him? "I...I didn't know..." he trailed off, biting his lip.

"He never wanted you to know," God said sympathetically. "But he only wanted to learn your weaknesses, what gives you your power...And he wanted to use it to kill you for good."

"What _does_ give me my power?" he asked, looking at them helplessly. God and Jesus looked at one another briefly, God shaking His head.

Jesus turned back and sighed, "We don't know," he replied. "Something got messed up when your soul was being processed, but we're not sure of what." He watched Kenny's shoulders slinking sadly. The blonde just wanted some goddamn answers. Why him? Why him for _all_ of this ridiculous nonsense? Why couldn't he just be at home listening to Kyle giving another three hour bubbly rant on Lewis and Clark or some shit? Why did he have to have the damn antichrist of all people stacking up against him, hating him for something that he had absolutely no control over?

He sighed, looking at the figureheads and sinking even further into himself. "Could he?" he asked softly. "Could he really kill me?"

"We don't know," God said honestly. "It'd be difficult, and he'd have to get a hold of you. But up here, you're safe," He assured him. "You have too much power up here for him to get to you and hurt you."

Well at least he had _that_ in his favor, he supposed. He bit his cheek lightly, "So...what's this I hear about utilizing my power?" he asked quietly. "Because these fuckers have been vague," he slapped Michael and Raphael lightly.

"Because we didn't know what they meant," Michael slapped him back.

God stood from His chair, walking across the table with soft pads of His thick elephant feet, Kenny wondering how the hell He was nearly silent as He did so. The deity stopped in front of him, putting a paw on his forehead and smiling at him comfortingly. "You are destined to hold a great deal of power, Kenneth," He told him, watching the blues of his eyes glazing with a large bout of confusion. His serpent tongue swiped over His lips and He felt a warm, tranquil rush flowing through Him. "You are to rise to the rank of an archangel," He explained, feeling the warmth rushing through His arm and down into Kenny. The blonde yelped, jerking back and falling out of his chair, groaning as he landed awkwardly on his right wing. God watched him carefully as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and hissing. "You have been blessed," He said simply.

"Blessed with...with what?" he asked, overwhelmed with the feelings he was experiencing. He could literally feel his blood rushing through his dead veins, his body feeling as though it was not his own.

"Power," He smiled. "The power to win this war. Everything you need will come to you when the time is needed for it to be unleashed. Whatever obstacles lie in your wake, you will have the strength to conquer...should you learn to control yourself properly," He added.

Kenny gulped, struggling onto his feet, a part of him terrified he was floating as he felt weightless for a few moments, stumbling a bit. Michael looked at him and chuckled, "Ah yes, I remember that little awkward phase," he gestured to the blonde listlessly. "Worry not, Kenneth, you will grow accustomed to it in time."

Ken smacked his lips, feeling all of their stares on him and trying to regain some of his dignity. "How...how do I learn to control myself...i-if I don't know what my powers are?" he stammered, his head feeling as though it were stuck on a spin cycle.

"Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael will train you," God said. "You will learn of the powers that _all_ of you harbor, developing your specially custom ones as time proceeds." He looked at the four of them, His light-hearted voice dropping a few octaves and a frown taking over His grey face. "Remember, we are on a time limit," He reminded them. "Kenneth, you will have much to learn in only a few short months. Can I trust that you will do all that you can, for Heaven and for Earth?"

Kenny bit his lip nervously but nodded. "I-I'll do my best," he whispered.

"I have absolute faith in you," God nodded back. "I will be here if you need me," He said. "Do not hesitate to come to any of us for guidance, we know how strenuous this is on you."

Ken took a deep breath, a bit thankful that he had so many beings to lean on. Lord knew he wasn't exactly the fastest learner, and it seemed as though this was going to be one hell of a lesson to deal with. He glanced over each face watching him intensely. He forced down the absolute pounding in his head, clenching his fists to try to regain control of his nerves. The blonde took another long, heavy breath. He was in this for good now, there was no turning back. His mind flashed to Kyle and he couldn't help but smirk lightly to himself. The redhead himself said it, Kenny was a stubborn man with a tendency to go all out to be able to get his way. And he wasn't about to let any fucking deceiving antichrist son of a bitch break that habit.


	8. In His Hands

**Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested... -** _**Revelation 2:10** _

Stepping out of the shower into fresh clothes and helping himself to a cup of coffee was a routine that Kyle had fallen in love with over the years. More often than not, all his problems could fade away with that first sip of bitter nectar, letting his issues roll down his throat in beads of steaming caffeinated bliss. However, he was finding little to no comfort in this ritual nowadays. He sighed tiredly as he slipped on his tennis shoes once again, angry at himself that he forgot he needed to go to the store and couldn't put on his damn pajamas. The coffee pot beeped from behind him and he took a deep breath at the heavenly aroma wafting around him, staring up at the wall tiredly.

It'd only been two weeks. Two weeks of Kenny being gone and he already felt all the life drained out of him. It was simply ridiculous. Kyle never depended on anyone, or, so he thought at least. He struggled to get himself off the comfort of his couch and head into the kitchen, pouring his concoction into a large orange soup mug, dousing it with cream and a sprinkle of sugar. He let himself indulge in a long sip with his eyes closed, letting his imagination wander and pretend that Kenny was on the couch making fun of him for his routine as he often did, telling him the routine would be much more enjoyable if he'd skip getting dressed and just walk out naked and wet for him to watch. He beat away the thought as he reopened his green eyes, indulging in a smile, not willing to let himself drown in his misery.

"Maybe I should get a cat or something," he murmured, kicking at the tiled floor beneath him listlessly. He wondered how Kenny would react coming home and finding Kyle and a furry little creature waiting for him eagerly, smiling to himself a bit as he took another sip. He smacked his lips and took a long breath, wondering just how long it'd take before people started asking questions. Somehow, Kenny's work hadn't called for him, Kyle only able to assume that that was 'him being taken care of' as Ken had put it. But what could he do if someone came to visit the blonde? Lie and say he's off on a business trip? He frowned, knowing well enough that no one would believe a damn mechanic is traveling around to conferences.

He jerked a bit in shock at a sudden vibration on his hip, reaching down and pulling his phone out of his pocket, sighing as Stan's name came across the screen. When he and Kenny had moved outside of Boulder the year before for Kyle to go to school, Stan and Wendy weren't far behind so _she_ could do the same in another university down the road from Kyle's. He loved Stan, but being the _only_ friend that he had in the town meant a lot of super best friend time. Not that he hated it, but being without Kenny made him want to be fully alone rather than deal with Stan and Wendy's relationship drama. He thought that his current situation had their petty 'he washed the sheets wrong' bullshit beaten pretty hard.

He flicked on the phone, holding it to his ear. "Hey, Stan," he muttered.

" _Well gee, hey to you, too, Dickhead. Thanks for being so excited..."_ he paused. _"Oh, I'm interrupting your little coffee thing, aren't I?"_

Kyle couldn't help but grin. Stan knew him too well for his own good. "Yeah. Yeah, you are. But you ruined it already, so what's up?"

" _You and Ken interested in a double date? Wendy is insisting."_

Kyle cringed. "Uh, Ken's...out of town," he said slowly.

He paused again. _"Holy shit did that fucktard leave you?!"_

"No!" he glared, a little offended that Stan's first conclusion was something like that. "He's...visiting Karen," he worked out, putting the phone on speaker and setting it next to him on the counter. Made sense. Kenny loved Karen even more than he loved Kyle. He always wanted to see her. Perfectly viable excuse.

" _What a lame-ass,"_ he snorted. _"Do you wanna come get dinner with me and Wends, then?"_

God no. "Nah," he replied, taking a long sip and sighing, leaning against his counter and staring down at the floor. "With Ken gone I'm getting a lot of study time, so I'm using it to my advantage."

" _Oh my gooooddddd, you dweeb,"_ he teased. _"Well fine, rot away in your little land of the past and leave me by my lonesome."_

Kyle rolled his eyes, looking down into his cup. "Whatever, Dude. Go puke on Wendy or something," he taunted.

" _Fuck you,"_ he said, Kyle just able to see his pout. _"Talk to you later, Dickcheese."_

"Same to you, Assram-" he stopped as another sound emerged.

"So. You must be the famous Kyle," a voice popped out of nowhere.

He flinched, looking up to see a tall noirette with deep garnet eyes staring at him. "What the fuck?!" he jerked back. "Who the fuck are you?! Get the fuck out of my house!" he shouted.

" _Kyle?"_ Stan asked in concern.

"I think not," the visitor raised his brow amusedly, taking a step towards him, leaning down on the island across from him and watching the panic flowing through the redhead with a malicious grin. "You're shorter than I imagined," he commented off-handedly, grabbing Kyle's fork from his dinner and swinging it in his hand.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, his mind flittering to a few stories Kenny had told him. The red eyes were a dead giveaway, and something that gave him nothing short of a bundle of nerves exploding within his chest. "You're Damien," he breathed, green eyes snapped into high alert.

The demon looked at him in surprise before grinning. "Why yes. McCormick told me you were smart, nice to know he wasn't lying to me."

"What do you want?" he asked, grating his cheek. This wasn't good. If Kenny was in war with Hell, that meant that the man in front of him had some part in it. "Kenny isn't here."

" _Kyle, who is it?! What's going on?!"_ Stan asked frantically.

"Oh, I know," he smirked, dropping the fork and swiftly hopping over the bar, landing in front of the cornered Jew not a foot away from him. He smiled, the redhead looking like a trapped wild animal, eyes flickering for an escape route. "I came to see _you_ , Kyle," he drawled.

"Why?" he demanded, gulping and trying to straighten himself out, to not let the demon see any intimidation.

Damien smirked, leaning against the bar and crossing his arms, giving a dismissive shrug. "Just wanted to know what McCormick sees in you, that's all."

Kyle blinked confusedly, the worry beginning to escalate out of his control. This was bad, he could just tell this wasn't going to end well for him. "What do you mean?"

"Well if McCormick is really as powerful as they say he is..." he leaned back forward, snaring Kyle's chin and pulling him towards his face, watching the vivid spring green expand as his pupils shrunk in fear. "I just want to know why he finds a little mortal like _you_ so intriguing." He crowded him against the counter, Kyle's coffee dropping onto the floor and the mug shattering, their eyes refusing to break from each other's.

" _KYLE?!"_

"Hm," Damien looked him up and down, both of them ignoring Stan's panicked state on the other end. "You don't look like much. Maybe it's because you have such a pretty face that you remind him of a woman," he taunted, a spark of glee jumping through him as anger flashed through Kyle's eyes. "Or perhaps you're just a fantastic whore. Is that it?"

Kyle's teeth bared and he reached back, grabbing a chef's knife from its holder and slamming it into Damien's shoulder. His body froze over in shock as Damien merely looked at it before raising his eyes back into the Jew's. "Ah, it's because you're _feisty_ ," he grinned. Kyle jerked forward, slamming into him and the demon stumbled back in surprise, giving him enough room to escape from the counter and back up into the living room. His eyes were wide as Damien pulled the knife from his shoulder, black blood staining the blade. He chuckled, his eyes pulsing as the wound healed.

"Get away from me," Kyle said slowly, eyes flickering to the door. Damien noticed and grinned, his eyes glowing once more. Kyle watched in astonishment and horror as their couch smoothly moved over, barricading his only way out. The redhead bit his lip. "What do you _want_?" he demanded.

" _Wendy! Call the police! Kyle, we're on our way!"_ they heard as Stan shouted over the phone.

Damien twisted the knife in his palm, casually walking over towards Kyle. The man tried to back away before Damien curled his finger and a gust of power forced him right in front of him. He gulped as Damien's fingers clutched his chin again and the blade was pressed against his throat. "I want to win," he said slowly, relishing in Kyle's pulse quickening under his fingers. "I want to get what I deserve. And your little fiancé is what's standing in my way."

"I can't help you there," he hissed, trying to break out of his hold and back away from the knife, failing miserably.

"Oh, but you _can,_ " he chuckled, leaning down into the Jew's face. "You see..." he brought up the blade, trailing it slowly down his cheek and watching panic blooming once more as Damien's blood smeared on the skin. "I don't know why McCormick is the way he is. Why he's able to fuck with the rules of life."

"Neither does _he_ ," he said through clenched teeth, managing to fight his arms up through Damien's hold and grab his wrist. The demon watched him in surprise as he clawed at the oppressing hand.

Damien gripped him tighter, eyeing him carefully. "I don't _need_ to know, not now. All he needs is a weakness. A reason to give up his fight and leave this to the _real_ gods."

Kyle's stomach dropped, but he fought through it. It was obvious where this was going. He had one possible way out of this and only one: He'd have to talk his way out. "He won't give up the war for me, you fuck," he hissed.

"Really?" he cocked his head. "Because you're what he's fighting _for_ ," he drawled. "So why would he risk losing you?"

Kyle narrowed his eyes, "You won't kill me," he growled.

"And just what makes you think so?" he smirked.

"Because then you won't have leverage," he spat. "If you kill me, if you _hurt_ me in the slightest, Kenny will fucking _destroy_ you and you know it."

Damien couldn't help but marvel at his confidence, a part of him amazed at the little redhead's drive. "Or he'll be so wrought with distress about your safety he'll fail," he countered, pushing the blade back into the man's throat.

He gave a snarky smirk that threw Damien for a loop, not used to seeing such an expression on a mortal's face directed at himself, especially from one in such a compromised position. "You don't know Kenny very well," he drawled. "He doesn't fucking stop until he gets what he wants. And if you do anything to me, he'll want your head," he huffed.

The demon stared at him for a bit before laughing darkly. "Well, we can just test that theory," he purred, his eyes glowing brighter. Kyle yelped as he flew back suddenly, landing with a crash through the wooden coffee table, ending up in a broken pile of splinters and groaning. He rolled over onto his side, curling up and hissing. Footsteps approached him and he looked up, gritting his teeth and fighting through the intense pain, working onto his knees and scrambling back, watching the demon carefully.

"I'm not a part of this," he said weakly, the air knocked out of his lungs.

"Ah, but you _are_ , little Kyle," he replied. "You're the reason he's in this fight. He wants to protect _you_. However..." he grinned, his power locking Kyle into place and flinging the knife at him. Kyle screeched as it flew into his upper left arm, Damien releasing him from the hold. "He can't do much to save you when he's not here, can he?" he jeered, watching with interest as Kyle ripped the knife out with a long cry, throwing it down and clasping over the bleeding wound. He could hear Stan screaming for him and took a trembling breath.

Kyle growled, working his way back up onto his feet and shaking. "I don't need saving," he spat, grabbing one of his textbooks from the end-table with his uninjured arm and wailing it at the monster. It hit Damien square on the forehead and the demon sighed, rubbing the spot tiredly and watching him with bored eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Because you seem to underestimate how dangerous I can be and how _very_ defenseless you are, little one." He raised his hand, the book flying up and slamming into Kyle's face, the sheer force turning him around and tossing him back to the ground. Kyle looked up at him, holding his throbbing cheek and wondering just what the hell he could do. "You're a stubborn one, I'll give you that much," Damien said placidly, pointing at the boy and raising him off the ground, hearing Kyle squeak in panic and grinning. "But you should know how to pick your battles." He flicked his hand and Kyle flew across the room into the wall above his desk with a loud cry, falling down onto his computer monitor and tumbling onto the floor. He let out an anguished scream as the desk toppled over on top of him, the monitor dropping onto his leg. He hissed, shoving himself out of the pile and looking up at the once again approaching monster. Damien smiled, watching the blood pouring out of his nose, his eyes and chin easily identifiable as bruised already.

"Stay...away," he tried again, gulping and trying to get to his feet, his injured leg giving up on him and sending him into a crumpled heap on the ground. Damien bent down, grabbing his shirt collar and yanking him up. Kyle hissed, punching and scratching at Damien's face with his working arm, trying to ward off his hands.

"Feisty," he repeated in an amused murmur. He turned the boy around and gripped his wrists, pulling his head back by his dampened curls. "Too bad your strength doesn't match that, then you might have had a shot," he smirked, kicking the back of his knees and letting him fall towards the ground.

"LET GO!" Kyle screamed, trying to work himself out of the death lock around him. Damien chuckled, letting him try to fight his way off his knees, his body thrusting around in a fit of rage. "STAN!" he screeched out at his phone. "STAN, HELP!"

" _I'm almost there, Ky!"_ he shouted back, hearing Wendy frantically talking from beside him, trying to call for help.

"I can only imagine how much McCormick misses you," Damien taunted. "I'm sure he'll _love_ to see you." Kyle screeched between clenched teeth before the hand in his hair quickly fled, a strong arm wrapping around his throat. Kyle's eyes widened as the tendons were squeezed viciously, choking and trying desperately to fight in a breath. He tried kicking back, black edging his vision as he looked up towards the ceiling, praying for Kenny to burst down and get him out. Damien tongued over his lips, feeling the redhead's movements warbling and smiling. Mortals were just _far_ too easy to get the upper hand over. Kyle let out a soft cough, his eyes rolling back as his head became too heavy for him to handle, his body slumping against Damien's chest. Damien felt for his pulse in his wrists, feeling a small beat still thumping away and chuckling. The redhead fell silent and still, Damien finally letting go of him, watching him limply collapse onto the ground. He leaned down beside of him, brushing his curls out of his closed eyes and observing the shallow breaths Kyle's body was trying desperately to give him once more.

With a snarky grin he raised to his feet and walked to Kyle's phone, listening to Stan and Wendy shouting for the redhead in an absolute hysteria. "Perhaps you should turn back home," he drawled smoothly into the device. "I'll make sure he's taken care of."

" _Don't you_ _ **fucking**_ _touch him!"_ Stan ordered.

"He'll be safe. So long as McCormick plays by the rules," he grinned, shutting off the phone and dropping it onto the ground. He strolled back over to the man sprawled out on the floor and raised his brow amusedly. He never expected such fire to come from Kenny's little squeeze, but he couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised. It wasn't often he had a mortal resist him, after all. He reached under Kyle, turning him over and lifting him into his arms, staring curiously at the unconscious man. The demon began sinking down through the floor with his victim, practically giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing Kenny's devastation over his injured little redhead. Damien smiled slyly, looking up as he continued taking Kyle down through the plane back home. _'Let's see just how much of a hero he really is.'_


	9. A Burnt Offering

" **...But whoever has the world's goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him? Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and truth." -** _ **1 John 3:16-18**_

Watching an angelic army should have been an amazing sight for the tired blonde, but there was little to no interest expressed in his face. He tongued over his lips, looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers. He could still feel the power surging through him, and according to the other archangels, he had another few weeks of it still. The only thing Kenny had managed to do in his time in the clouds was harbor better control of his wings, and even _that_ was a bit shaky of a task. Michael had informed him that his training would begin when he wasn't trembling like a junkie, less he lose complete control and wipe a portion of Heaven out. The concept terrified him in a way.

Kenny knew himself, he knew that he was on the higher end of scrawny, the only muscles he had grown coming from lifting tires all damn day. He had a good deal more than Kyle, but the redhead could still kick his ass if he pissed him off enough. He pouted, wondering what he would be telling him. If he'd be encouraging him or yelling at him to stop being so goddamn worried and just _try_. But he was afraid. He couldn't deny that he was scared of the possibilities. God had made it sound as though he held the world in his hands, which in a way, he supposed was true. But how does one control power like that? How could one even _comprehend_ holding so much might over the forces of the afterlife?

His blue eyes raised to see Michael and Gabriel sparring with one another, their swords clanking together in a harsh _shlink_ time and again. Ken gulped, wondering if a sword like that could be held in the hand of a minion of Hell, if it could just slide right through him, take his life for good. He knew that God and Jesus themselves had no clue as to what could finally bring him down, but what if this was it? What if dying a second time would trigger it? He knew that being re-killed resulted in normal mortals merely respawning, but he was no normal mortal, not by a long shot.

"Kenneth, come down here!" Raphael called from the training arena below. The blonde blinked and nodded, hopping onto the railing and flapping his wings, gently lowering himself down onto the clouds. He stumbled and fell onto his knees, cursing under his breath. The angel, however, beamed at him proudly. "There you go, you're getting the hang of it," he complimented.

Kenny blushed a bit and shrugged as he struggled his way back up. "Ain't no big deal," he said quietly. "What's up?"

"This," Raphael smiled, brandishing a sword from behind his back and handing it over to the man. Kenny stared at it in awe, the weight incredible but so easily held in his weak hands. "It is designed for your use only," Raphael explained. The sword was gleaming, a silver hilt with a translucent baby blue center that followed the curled ends. The blade was astonishing, glittering in the light in an array of silver and white.

"Wow," he murmured, running his thumb softly over the edge, astonished when it didn't cut him. "Seems kind of dull."

"It will not harm those of Heaven's gates," he chuckled. "It is forged and then blessed by God Himself, and He took extra care in overseeing the craftsmanship of this particular sword." Kenny nodded, turning the weapon in his hand and heaving a heavy breath. He could just see it stained red, a notion that he was not particularly looking forward to. "What shall you call it?" Raphael asked.

"Huh?" he raised his brow.

He smirked, "Every sword is given a name." He held up his own, similar to Kenny's but with a glistening array of purple gems encrusted within the hilt. "Mine is Liberality."

"And the other's?" he asked, looking at the other angels still swinging their weapons around.

Raphael chuckled. "Michael's is Triumph, Gabriel's Rationale." He paused, pointing to the others down the way. "Uriel's is Repentance. Jegudiel's is Accolade. Selaphiel's Revery, and Barachiel's is called Invocation."

Kenny licked over his lips, nodding slowly. "I...I don't know what to call mine," he chuckled. "With those names, I feel like calling it Fluffy wouldn't go over well."

The angel snorted, "Probably not. Worry not, Kenneth. You will develop a relationship with your sword. It will be your arm, the one thing that you feel as though you cannot do without. It will lead you through your challenges with great fortitude."

He sighed, "I hope so...though I've never held one in my goddamn life, let alone used one."

"You will learn quickly," he assured him with a wink. They both looked up as a soldier began calling from the balcony.

"Archangel Kenneth!" he called down. "There is a request to see you!"

Kenny raised his brow, "From w-" he stopped as the angel quickly took off. He looked at the other archangels, staring at him confusedly.

"God would have come Himself were it He who requested you," Michael murmured. "Come Kenneth," he curled his finger, all eight of them taking off up towards the area the angel flew from. They caught him at the forefront of the arena, glancing at the blonde nervously.

"Who's asking for me?" Kenny blinked.

"It's Damien," a voice appeared from beside them. They turned to see Jesus looking at him just as lost as he felt. "He has requested an audience with all of you, promising that only he and two others will pass through the gates."

Kenny narrowed his eyes, "This is a trap," he said firmly. "I know that bastard well enough."

"What can he do with only three bodies, though?" Selaphiel questioned.

"Perhaps try to take a gander at our forces," Barachiel crossed his arms.

Jesus looked at the eight skeptical faces and sighed. "He cannot do much if we meet him near the front gate," he reminded them. "And his powers are not so overwhelming here. He will be at _our_ mercy should he try to make a move."

The angels surrounding Kenny looked at him, knowing that he had to be the one to make the call. He shifted nervously, clutching his sword in his hand and gulping. This wouldn't be good. Damien had to be up to _something_. "Fine," he muttered. The collective sighed together, lifting themselves and quickly flittering towards Saint Peter's base. Each mind was scanning through possibilities of his motive, knowing that he wouldn't be up to any kind of good. Kenny bit his lip, wondering why he wanted to see _him_ in particular. Did he find a way to destroy him? Or did he just want to try to scare Kenny out of this fight? He narrowed his icy eyes and took a deep breath as they flew through the city, dodging clouds and buildings along the way. He tossed his blonde bangs out of his eyes, watching as the towering golden gates came into view as they sped towards them.

They each pushed their legs forward, slowing themselves down and landing down onto the clouds, Kenny stumbling and landing facefirst with a groan. Goddammit. Every goddamn time. He felt a set of hands pull him up, looking at Uriel and Gabriel with a grateful, embarrassed grin before turning to see Peter staring at them nervously.

"Peter, let him in," Jesus nodded.

The old man took a deep breath, waving his hand and all of them watching as the gates creaked open. Kenny watched, his anger growing as Damien slowly appeared before them, walking nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets, a devious grin on his face. "Hello, McCormick. I trust Heaven is treating you well?" he asked calmly.

"Whaddya want, Damien?" he scowled.

"Come now, I'm here in peace," he held up his hands defensively.

"Where are the other two?" he demanded.

He smirked, "In a moment. Tell me, are you _sure_ this is what you want? To be on the side of those who've denied you entrance into their little Holy Land for so long?"

Kenny sneered, "I know you're the one who kept dragging me to Hell, Damien. Don't even _try_ your bullshit."

He quirked his brow and shrugged. "Perhaps I merely enjoyed your company. Not as if you _minded_ considering all you did was prance around so carefree."

"Look," he said firmly, feeling the angels around him staring at him worriedly. "If you're just here to try to intimidate me, you can fuck off you slimy bastard. I'm not afraid of you. I know you're nothing but a giant pussy."

"Oh?" he smiled. "Well, I have something that will _make_ you afraid of me," he stated.

"Try me," he challenged, his heart dropping a bit as his opposition's grin grew wider and ruby eyes sparkled, spelling trouble.

"Oh, Gragor?" Damien looked back and called. They all watched with narrowed eyes as Damien's lackey stomped in, his claws held behind him and glaring evilly at the angelic creatures before him. "Do _show_ McCormick just what we have, will you?" he smiled sweetly. Gragor chuckled, pulling an arm from behind, revealing a small blindfolded and gagged redhead with his hands secured behind his back, shoving him to his knees in front of the lot.

"KYLE?!" Kenny screamed, going to move towards him in a pure panic.

"Uh uh uhhh," Damien wagged his finger. Kenny froze in his place as Damien reached down, cupping the captive man's chin and raising his head to stare at the blonde, Kyle's chest rising and falling in anxiety. "Unless _I_ cut off a certain spell, if you touch him, he dies," he grinned. "Only myself and Gragor can come in contact with him, less he be susceptible to a very vicious poison," he feigned a pout. "And any damage you do to either of us," he gestured between himself and his companion, "will be dealt onto him. So I suggest you stand back less you hurt him, McCormick."

"You're bluffing," Barachiel snarled.

Damien raised his brow and shrugged, holding out his hand. They all watched as a ruby-encrusted dagger popped up in his palm. He looked at the group of nine and grinned in challenge, reaching down and putting the blade over his own thigh, wincing only slightly as he cut a deep gash into his flesh. A few seconds passed before Kyle arched up with a panicked, muffled scream, blood seeping through his pant leg and tears leaking under his blindfold. "Still think I'm lying?" Damien scoffed, putting his hand over his wound and healing it through, smirking as Kyle's cut did the same and the redhead panted in relief.

The blonde's jaw trembled, looking at the suffering redhead with glistening eyes. "Damien. He's not a part of this," he said breathlessly.

"Oh but he _is_ ," he sneered. "He tried to feed me the same bullshit before I tossed him around like my little bitch," he arched a brow, insides dancing at Kenny's fury.

Michael stepped up, putting a hand on the trembling blonde's shoulder. "What is it you're wanting, Damien?" he asked lowly.

He shrugged. "It's very simple," he stated, putting a hand on Kyle's head and chuckling as Kenny screeched with rage. "I will send this little one home...if McCormick goes with him," he said lowly. "He gives up the fight and takes poor little injured Kyle home to tend to his wounds and they'll both be oh so happy," he smirked. Kenny began to hyperventilate, seeing blood dried and caked on Kyle's arm running down a large stab wound, the purple bruise cresting his chin, his gag stained from his busted nose. He was a complete mess, and the blonde hadn't been there to save him. Shit, shit, _shit_.

Jesus stepped up beside of Kenny and looked at the kneeling Jew, his heart lurching in sympathy. "Damien, Kenny is right. Kyle has no part in this."

"Fight like a man," Gabriel added, scowling at him viciously. "Don't hide behind a hostage!"

Damien looked over the lot, chuckling quietly. "Adorable. You think that you can sway me with pretty words and sympathy for this little whore," he tugged Kyle's hair, getting a muffled yelp out of him. He grabbed Kyle's blindfold and ripped it off his head, Kyle shaking himself and squinting in pain at the sudden bright intrusion. Bruised and bloodshot green orbs suddenly raised, locking into Kenny's horrified stare and glistening over instantly. "He's so scared and so _hurt_ , McCormick," Damien pouted, petting his head lightly. "After all, you _promised_ to be his hero, didn't you? Well, here he is. Save him," he dared.

Kyle shook his head frantically, lurching to the side and bashing his shoulder into Damien's leg. The demon stumbled a bit, looking at the redhead with a scowl and kicking him, sending him onto his side with a cut cry.

"What do we do, Jesus?!" Raphael looked at their savior with wide eyes. The man was silent, gulping. He didn't know. He didn't know _what_ Damien did to Kyle to put such a spell on him, he couldn't counteract a damn thing.

Kenny dropped his sword, his hands running wildly through his hair and gritting his teeth. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! He wanted nothing more than to punch Damien's lights out and whisk Kyle off to safety, watching the redhead struggling back onto his knees and looking at him once again. Kyle shook his head once more, furrowing his blackened eyes. Kenny knew that look. It meant either listen to him or face the consequences...But the consequences of letting Damien take him could be _so_ much worse. "Please," he whispered. "Please, he didn't do anything, Damien," he croaked.

"And nothing more will be done to him should you comply," he said simply, curling his finger at the redhead. Kyle yelped as his power grabbed him, forcing him into a slide back towards him and crashing into his leg. Damien knelt down beside him, grasping his chin and forcing them to look at each other. "He's pretty hurt, McCormick. Mortals don't take being thrown through furniture very well." He watched Kenny bristling with a small smirk. "I think it's a fair trade, don't you? After all, he _needs_ you," he taunted. Kyle once more shook his head furiously, yelling from behind his gag and trying to pull himself out of Damien's hand.

"Let _Kyle_ speak," Jesus ordered suddenly.

Damien quirked his brow but shrugged. "Why not? Though he has a little mouth on him, I'll warn you goody-goodies right now." He tore the gag out of Kyle's mouth, sending him in a coughing fit, his eyes welling as he tried to calm himself.

He panted, looking up at Kenny. "Don't," he rasped. "Don't be a fucking idiot, Kenny."

"Ky..." he croaked, his soul and heart alike feeling pulled in every goddamn direction.

"I'll be _fine_ ," he insisted.

Damien scoffed, "You think so?"

He shot his head to him and glared. "I told you. I already know you won't kill me, you sack of shit. So don't even _try_ that bull."

The demon chuckled, staring into the determined gaze of those green eyes, feeling a twist of excitement rising within him. This mortal was going to be _fun_ should Kenny not go along with his offer. "Perhaps I won't," he smirked before looking back at the frazzled blonde. "But he _can_ suffer," he raised his brow. "I can put this little bitch of yours through unspeakable amounts of torture. He will suffer because of _your_ foolishness, McCormick," he warned.

Kenny looked between the redhead and the group surrounding him, completely lost as to what to do. Lose a war or lose Kyle, two options that couldn't be more equally weighed if he fucking _tried_.

"Kenny, please," Kyle begged, looking at him once again. " _Everyone_ will suffer if you fucking back out. Kick this fucker's ass and you'll get me back, don't be stupid!"

Damien snorted, "Cute. He thinks if you beat me I'll give him back. You mortals are so adorable with your little bouts of hope," he pinched his cheek, prompting the Jew to snarl and try to bite at him. "Perhaps I'll harbor him as a keepsake," he looked at Kenny primly. "Maybe he'll be nothing but a spoil of war that I keep around to beat whenever I think of your ugly mug."

Kenny's jaw trembled, his eyes flickering around in panic, his chest tightening to the point of no breath being able to force its way out. He couldn't do this. There was no _way_. "I-I...I can't make that choice," he whispered.

"Then _I'll_ make it," Kyle declared. "You stay up here and you fucking _fight_. This pussy ain't got nothin' on me," he scoffed, glaring and spitting at Damien's face.

"Want thrown into another wall?" Damien frowned, wiping the spit from his cheek before slapping Kyle hard across the face, hearing Kenny's distraught cry with an excited swelling in his stomach. "Keep that shit up and your little friend Stan won't be calling the police, he'll be calling the morgue."

"Fuck off," he hissed, beating back pained tears and looking up at Kenny's devastated face. "Just _fight_ ," he pleaded, groaning as Damien grabbed the back of his neck, digging his claws down into his skin.

The demon shot a sharp glare at the blonde. "If you do this. If you listen to your little squeeze here...he won't be coming back to you unscathed. I can fucking _guarantee_ it. You'll be lucky if you do get him back if he's not nothing but a fucking _doll_."

"Kyle..." Kenny whispered. "I can't let that happen to you."

"Yes. You can," he said firmly, wincing at the claws digging into him. "It's me versus billions of others, Kenny. Don't be selfish." He bit his lip lightly, his heart aching from the pure pain that was plainly spelled on Kenny's face. "I love you," he said softly. "I'll be okay."

Damien rolled his eyes. "Awfully confident for a hostage of the devil," he scoffed. He got to his feet, moving his hand from Kyle's neck to his hair and tightening his fingers around the curls. He stared up at Kenny and glared. "McCormick, make your choice. Step down or stay here with the knowledge that your little lover here is in insurmountable amounts of pain."

Kenny's stance slackened, his eyes slowly closing and his breath coming through in painful rasps. He knew the right choice. He fucking _knew_ what he had to do...But goddammit. God _dammit_. "I'm staying," he whispered, tears breaking through and falling down his face.

Kyle sighed in relief, it failing instantly as Damien ripped him up by his hair onto his feet. "Fine," the man spat. He thrust Kyle up towards Kenny by his hair, "Take a good last look, McCormick. You won't see him in such good shape again."

The two of them stared at each other, wanting so desperately to reach out and touch one another. "Don't cry," Kyle whispered.

"I'll save you," he promised, his voice cracking.

The redhead smiled meekly, "I know you will." He suddenly yelped as Damien ripped him back, throwing him into Gragor's form, a giant paw slamming over his mouth and holding him back tightly.

Damien crossed his arms and shook his head. "It's a shame. Poor little Kyle playing martyr for _your_ war."

"This is a war by _your_ hand," Jegudiel reminded him darkly.

"The boys are doing the right thing," Jesus added, shaking his head slowly. "Damien, you may as well take Kyle back home. He'll serve no purpose for you."

"Oh but he will," he countered with a sadistic chuckle. "I have my plans. After all, you should always have a backup when going against you little pure fuckers. You like to play wishy-washy so much you have to be prepared for anything..." he paused, looking at Kenny and Kyle still staring at each other longingly. "May wanna take that ring of yours off, McCormick," he smirked. "He won't be the same after this."

Kenny looked at him and bared his teeth, taking vicious breaths. He could see nothing but Damien, everything around him nothing but a void through which to shove the demon through. He reached down and grabbed his sword, pointing it at the man. "I _will_ kill you," he promised. "I fucking swear I'll cut off your fucking head! And the more _he's_ hurt, the more painful I'll make it," he spat.

Damien stared down the tip of the blade, his lips curling into a mean smirk. "I look forward to it," he taunted, turning on his heel and folding his finger at his two counterparts. "Come along, Kyle. You have a nice little dungeon to get acquainted with." Kyle flickered his eyes back to Kenny before Gragor forced him around, pushing him back out through the towering gates. Saint Peter gave the redhead a small, solemn nod, heart sinking at the fear the boy was trying to hide in those vivid eyes.

"Just wait for me, Ky! I'll get you out!" Kenny screamed after him, seeing the boy shiver. He bit his lip as Damien touched Kyle's shoulder, the three of them sinking down through the clouds once again. All eyes fell onto the blonde, who was nothing but a trembling pile of nerves and choked sobs. Kenny's legs failed him, crumpling onto the clouds on his knees, staring at the purity hiding under the chaos that had just ensued.

"Kenny..." Jesus said gently, kneeling down next to him and putting a soothing hand on his back. "Ken, you did the right thing. Kyle is strong, he'll be okay."

He looked at him, eyes lost as though he were a mere child. "How do you know?" he whispered.

Jesus took a deep breath and bit his lip. "He was willing to deal with whatever Damien would put him through for your cause. I don't think he would have been so apt would he be certain he'd be doomed..." he paused and shifted uncomfortably. "However, I understand your worry. Damien had a look in his eyes..." he trailed off awkwardly, scratching at his brown hair.

"What do you think he'll do to him?" he asked, voice trembling.

Michael shifted, "He has plans for Kyle. He won't kill him...but we don't know what he's going to do."

Kenny's shoulders slunk, his sword slipping out of his grip, little bursts of clouds springing around it from the impact. "He's mine," he growled, tears springing free once again.

"Of course he is," Gabriel cooed. "You'll get him back."

"No," he spat, looking at the group. "I mean _Damien_." He bit his lip, looking at their faces carefully. "If I'm in this fucking war, if I'm letting Kyle suffer for your fucking fight, then Damien's head is _mine_."

Uriel frowned, "Kenneth, vengeance is not the way to-"

"Don't you _fucking_ talk to me about vengeance!" He screamed, hopping to his feet. "You saw what he did to Kyle already, you think he's just going to sit there and leave him be for the rest of this fucking time?!" He paused, his shoulders heaving out of control, each pair of eyes locked on him in sympathy. "I get to kill him," he murmured. "I get to throw him down, make him beg for Kyle's forgiveness, then take his fucking head!"

"Kenny," Jesus said softly, standing back up and trying to put a hand on the boy's shoulder, pulling back as Ken flinched from the touch. "Letting yourself sink into anger won't get you anywhere."

He looked over the group, frowning deeply. He reached down and once more picked up his sword. "No, it'll make me actually want to fight this fucking war," he countered lowly. "Now," he held up his weapon, glaring at them. "Teach me how to use this."


	10. Fruitless Extortion

" **In you they take bribes to shed blood; you take interest and profit and make gain of your neighbors by extortion; but me you have forgotten, declares the Lord God."** _ **-Ezekiel 22:12**_

Leaning back against a dank stone wall, Kyle couldn't help but groan as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. His back was killing him, his head hadn't stopped throbbing for as long as Damien had kept him locked away. He had no idea just _how_ long it'd been, but it seemed like forever. He knew it had to have been for a good while at least considering his bruises had finally faded. He yawned, rubbing an eye with the back of his wrist. He grimaced at the sound of chains around his wrists and sighed. It wasn't as though he could _run_ or something. He'd already attempted it, learning that Gragor was right on the other side of the door. He'd figured that out rather quickly when he tried to escape as he was being brought food from a weaker demon and had been thrown back inside his prison the second his foot crossed the threshold.

He scratched his head, his mind wandering to Kenny as it had been nonstop. His stomach lurched as he recalled that face he'd seen last, the one that screamed how guilty the blonde felt. Both of them _knew_ it wasn't Kenny's fault by a long shot, but Kyle knew him well enough to know he couldn't help feeling responsible. In a way, it was a blessing in disguise. Kenny rarely got angry. When he did, all of his focus went into solving the problem, which was something that was desperately needed for this situation.

He flinched as the sound of heavy metal squeaked open and he raised his brow. He'd already been brought his little piece of stale-ass bread and water not too long ago. He closed his eyes at the intrusion of Hell's light breaking through the room with a hiss, putting his hands over his eyes in pain.

"The light not to your liking?" a voice taunted. A voice that made him boil with _rage_.

He slowly worked himself back to creaking open his eyes, repressing an agonized whimper, not willing to let Damien see any hint of weakness. "The fuck do _you_ want?" he bit, squinting enough to see a blurry silhouetted form in front of him.

Damien smirked, watching Kyle struggling to get his vision under his control. "Wanted to see how my favorite little prisoner is doing," he drawled.

Kyle scoffed, "If I'm your favorite, I'd hate to see how you treat your most detested."

"Keep that attitude up and you'll learn," he snorted. "Stand up."

Kyle's eyes finally focused and he narrowed them. "Uh, go fuck yourself," he said. "Treat me like a hostage and go fuck off and leave me be until Kenny kicks your ass."

"Such faith in such a _weak_ fool," Damien chuckled. "You must be blinded by your _love_ ," he rolled his eyes.

Kyle cocked his brow superiorly, "Jealous?" he said simply. "After all, you're just a lonely little freak with no one, hence the reason you're so gung-ho on taking on Kenny when you _know_ he's going to beat you." He leaned back, crossing his arms and smirking at Damien's hint of a glare passing through his calm features.

"And look at you," he countered. "Can't save yourself, can you? Have to wait for your 'dashing hero' to rescue you?" he jeered.

"Not exactly a fair fight," he scoffed. "Unlike you two, I'm not supernatural. My disadvantages are a little high for it to be fair. Get rid of your powers for a few minutes and I'll kick your pussy ass," he boasted. Kyle knew well enough how down his chances were, but damn it all if he wasn't still a cocky talker through and through.

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement flashing through his eyes. "Well maybe later. Now, stand up or I'll _make_ you."

Kyle's face fell into a bored expression that intrigued the demon. "Well you're going to have to do the latter because I'm not yours to command."

"Hm," he smirked, walking over and grabbing Kyle's hair, ripping him up onto his feet with a sharp hiss. "You'll learn soon enough that everyone down here is mine, you included, Little one." Kyle rolled his eyes, looking down as the chains fell from his wrists. He rubbed over the raw skin, glancing at the demon suspiciously.

"The fuck are you wanting?" he asked. "Going to try to barter my life again?"

Damien grabbed the back of his neck, leading him out the prison door into the flames of Hell, Kyle squinting at the burst of color in his deprived eyes. He flickered his gaze to Gragor, standing there looking angry at his mere existence. Not like Kyle didn't feel the same about him. "Gragor," Damien gestured to the redhead. Kyle flinched as Gragor grabbed his arms, holding them behind his back tightly.

He rolled his eyes, "What? You expect me to fucking fly away, Dumbass?"

He yelped as one of Gragor's paws slapped into his head. "You will show respect, Mortal," he hissed.

He looked up at the golden monster and scowled, "Make me, you shiny faggot!"

"Gragor, down," Damien motioned as Gragor raised his hand once again. Kyle looked over at the noirette and he chuckled, curling his finger. "Come along, Little one. I have much to discuss with you."

"Oh goodie," he grumbled, allowing Gragor to push him along beside Damien, taking a look at the various bodies surrounding them. It was macabre, but fascinating. Every one of these people had passed, so many of them looking so _young_. Kyle gulped, knowing that he wasn't one of these young people who'd just gone before their true time. He was a goddamn hostage for reasons that he couldn't even begin to understand. "Why are you keeping me?" he snapped at Damien's calm demeanor. "Kenny is staying in Heaven so you should just fucking let me go home."

He raised his brow, "You said it yourself: You're leverage against that weak fool."

Kyle growled, "Kenny is _not_ a fool. And he's more of a man than _you_ could ever hope to be!"

"Because he sticks it in you so well?" he taunted, feeling Kyle's blush even through the searing heat of Hell surrounding them.

Kyle looked away and bristled, "Once again, you're just jealous that we have each other and you're a lonely sack of shit," he said primly.

"It's certainly not jealousy, Little one."

"Stop fucking calling me that," he sneered.

He looked at him amusedly, the mortal's temper seeming like a fun game to engage in that he'd never had the pleasure of before. He wondered just what it would take for him to win. "Oh? Then what should I call you?"

"Nothing. You call me nothing and send me home and we never see each other again until Kenny brings home your head and we stick it on the wall," he glared.

He chuckled, "Nice try. Perhaps I shall call you Bitch since you're such a weak little thing," he pinched the man's cheek.

"Fuck off," he grumbled, shifting in Gragor's tight grip and wincing.

"So, tell me," Damien started, looking straight ahead as he led the group through the fray, "Just what is it you find so attractive about McCormick?"

Kyle blinked and cocked his brow, "Are you fucking asking me why I think he's hot?"

"I was looking more for character traits actually," he snorted. "Though if all you see in him is his ugly mug then that's your opinion I suppose."

Kyle scowled, trying to kick at him before Gragor ripped him back on course. He sighed in aggravation, "Why do you want to know that?"

"I'm curious," he shrugged. "I personally can't stand him. Anyone who can deal with him for more than a few hours must have some good reason."

Kyle stared at him in confusion before just groaning under his breath. Not as though he could exactly run away from this retarded conversation. And having the demons continually hitting him wasn't exactly on his list of fun activities. "He's a good person," he said lowly. "Always has been."

"From what _I've_ seen of him, he's nothing but a bumbling pervert," he rolled his eyes.

"Not behind closed doors," he snapped.

"Ah, he sweet talked you into a relationship, didn't he?" he smirked amusedly at him. Kyle's lips set firmly and he looked back in front of them. Well, he couldn't exactly deny it, but he sure as hell didn't have to admit it to the demon beside of him. "Bet he promised you nothing but puppies and roses, didn't he?" he continued. "And look at you now. Were it not for that idiot you'd be at home worrying about a test or whatnot," he waved his hand dismissively.

"Were it not for that 'idiot', I'd be miserable," he snarled, beginning to lose his temper. "And besides, nothing will be more satisfying than watching him kill you," he said stubbornly. "It's worth the inconvenience."

He chuckled, "Oh is it? Because I wouldn't think you'd find happiness in being the devil's bitch."

He frowned, kicking a bit of ash and ember onto the demon, ignoring Gragor's paws tightening around his arms. "I'm _not_ your bitch," he said monotonously. "I'm your last resort."

"Hm. I suppose, in a way, you're right," he grinned, coming to a stop, Gragor halting with him and nearly throwing Kyle off balance. The redhead raised his brow, his eyes flickering around the change of scenery. Somehow they'd walked right out of the hustle of bodies into a barren clearing without his noticing. It wasn't terribly surprising, his vision had been filled to the brim of bashing Damien's skull in. "So, Little one, tell me, how much do you value McCormick?" The question fell on him uneasily, looking to meet those blood red eyes and trying to control a gulp wanting to work its way through his slender throat. "Answer the question," he ordered.

Kyle winced at claws digging into his arms and growled. "With everything I have, you fucktard."

"Good," he smirked. He looked up at the crimson sky and took a calm, cleansing breath. "Do you know _why_ I chose now to declare war, Little one?"

"Aside from your idiocy, no," he said dryly.

Those ruby irises slipped back down, gleaming with such mischief that Kyle could feel them worming a strong disquiet into his very soul. "Because I know how to kill off your little lover," he smirked. "I know how to _win_."

Kyle's heart skipped a beat, the two of them stood, staring in silence at each other. "You're lying," Kyle said meekly.

He grinned, "Actually, I'm not. However there is one problem in my plan..." he stopped and waited for Kyle to visibly relax before continuing. "While he's in Heaven it'll be pretty difficult for me to get a hold on him. At least...until my forces storm the gate," he cocked a superior brow. "But once we do, I can grab McCormick and get him out of my hair for good."

"Bullshit," he spat. "I don't know what the fuck you're trying to accomplish here but-" he stopped as Gragor slapped a paw over his mouth, far too sick of the mortal's rambling.

Damien chuckled darkly, leaning down towards the redhead's face. "I can and I _will_. Unless... _you_ are willing to compromise." Kyle blinked questionably and Damien waved Gragor away, the demon taking his hands off of Kyle and stepping back a few feet from them both. Kyle stared, unmoving at Damien's towering presence.

"What do you mean?" he said lowly.

"You see, you're not like myself or McCormick," he shrugged, grabbing Kyle's arm and twisting his forearm up, staring at the pasty flesh as Kyle was frozen in shock. "You're mortal. A strong one, but a mortal nonetheless," he stroked his thumb over his porcelain skin, hungrily eyeing the man's purple veins standing stark under the flesh. "Mortals can withstand so _much_ , or, at least, some of them."

Kyle blinked, "What, emotionally?"

"That," he shrugged, "And spiritually. Your souls have the potential to be something to be reckoned with, if the right person is carrying the power."

"I...I don't..."

Damien yanked him forward with a yelp and leaned down in his face, their foreheads nearly resting against one another's. "I've looked into you, Little one," he said dryly. "Died once, have gone through countless tribulations, and then you decided to fall in love with an immortal. It's strengthened your soul a good deal going through such turmoil throughout your short life."

The redhead felt that uneasiness creeping back through his veins, scanning over Damien's face and taking a shuddery breath. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He grinned. "You can be my secret weapon. I can give you a large dose of power to use against Heaven."

"I don't fucking think so!" he spat, ripping his arm back and taking a few steps away from the man. "I'm not fucking fighting for you!"

He held up a finger and smiled sweetly, an expression that looked far too unnatural on his face. "As a compromise, should you fight and should we win...I don't kill McCormick off," he quirked his brow. "I'll merely incapacitate him, finish off the war, and let you two be back together."

Kyle scowled, "I know what happens if you fucking win, Dickhead."

"Ah, but you'll be infused with demonic power," he countered, crossing his arms. "Those with demonic power will decide how the world runs, and I'll be sure to give you and Blondie a nice little retreat of your own."

"It's _not_ happening," he said firmly. "Kenny will-"

"Be so distracted trying to get you back he won't focus on the bigger goal," he interjected, watching Kyle's mouth slowly close. "We both know him, Little one. He's blinded by his own ambitions. All he'll care about is finding you again and he'll lose focus enough for me to get the upper hand. I'm offering you the chance to save _his_ life. If he's worth your everything, doesn't that mean you'd do anything to save him?" he questioned.

Kyle looked at him carefully, his mind overrun with ideas, concern, and just overall skepticism that he was even seated in reality at this point. "Why are you asking me to do this?" he growled. "There's billions of people down here."

"None of them are _alive_ ," he scoffed. "Live souls harbor much more power than their deadened counterparts. And besides, none of them have McCormick wrapped around their finger."

He frowned, "I'm not doing this. Kenny will beat you, regardless of whatever bullshit you try to pull."

Damien looked up and sighed, "You know, McCormick won't like very much to learn that you were given the option to save him and you wouldn't take it."

Kyle blinked, straightening himself out and trying to not let his nerves cripple him. He was in a bad situation, and he knew well enough that he couldn't just fight his way out. "I'm not doing jack _shit_ for you," he hissed.

He chuckled. "Ah, Little one, you certainly think you're tough, don't you?"

"If it wasn't for your fucking powers I'd be stronger than you!" he glowered.

A devious glint fell over Damien's eyes and they pulsed. Kyle stared at him, screeching as something suddenly slithered up his legs. He looked down, breath quickening in a complete panic at roots bursting through the ash and stone beneath him, coiling around his legs and torso, stringing up and securing his arms adjacent from him. He clenched his teeth, Damien watching amusedly as the redhead growled like a wild animal, his lip curled up in a snarl, green eyes analyzing the strands as he tried to find his way out. "Well then," Damien purred, stepping closer to the contained mortal and observing as the man tried to lash out at him. Kyle yelped as the roots tore him down onto his knees, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He tried lunging forward and biting at Damien's legs, groaning as the binds tightened around him. His eyes widened in horror as a thick root made its way up his chest and neck before digging in between his teeth and securing itself around his head, yanking him forward to stare at the ground.

Damien paced around the trapped man, eyes scanning over him smugly. "Stronger, hm?" he taunted. "If you're so tough, break out of this simple spell, Little one." Kyle screamed past the dirty gag, thrashing as violently as he could manage in the hold. "Gragor," Damien said, his eyes never leaving Kyle's struggling form. "Leave us."

The monster blinked and nodded, "Yes, My Lord." He stole a last quick glance at the redhead with a smirk before turning and taking flight back towards his post.

Kyle's breath quickened through his nose, his stomach curling something awful. This was bad. Everything about this situation screamed that he was going to end up way too far out of his element to be able to fight back. He blinked as Damien kneeled down in front of him, grabbing his chin and lifting his head back up as the root followed the demon's movements. A sadistic grin etched on his pale face made Kyle's insides tense worriedly.

"Do you know what makes you mortals so _disgusting_?" Damien sneered. Kyle blinked and he smirked. "You all go throughout your lives thinking nothing of one another, regardless of what you say. You _claim_ that you'd give McCormick your everything to save him. But if I said you could save him if you let me cut off your pretty little head..." he ran a claw across Kyle's throat and licked his fangs. "I doubt you'd be so apt, would you?"

Kyle's brows furrowed and Damien let the gag fall from his mouth, watching the man spit out the taste of ash and take a deep breath. "I would," he said firmly.

"Oh?" he raised his brow.

He nodded, wincing at the roots clutching tighter around him. "Kenny would die for me, that's why he's fighting this bullshit war you've started. It goes both ways, you piece of shit," he hissed.

"Then why won't you do _this_?" he questioned calmly, gripping onto him tighter. "Help me beat them and you get your idiot back."

Kyle spat on his face and the demon glared at him furiously as he wiped it off. "Because Kenny and I agreed that Earth is more important than just the two of us."

"But not to _you_ ," he smacked Kyle's face lightly. "You think I'm a fool, Little one?" he narrowed his eyes. "I can see into your soul. I can see just how badly you want McCormick to be safe. How you wouldn't _care_ if the two of you were locked away or tortured or some shit. You just want to be together like the little love-struck bitch that you are."

Kyle growled, leaning closer towards him all that he could in his bindings. "And yet, look at how I'm refusing to help you even though that's what you're promising me," he said dryly. "For someone who hates mortals so much, you don't seem to understand what we're really like."

"Oh really?" he scoffed.

"Really," he drawled. "We may want one thing but we'll more often than not do the _right_ thing, regardless of your petty little threats."

Damien shook his head, turning Kyle's head to look back towards where they'd walked from. "You saw all those mortals back there," he said lowly. "You know what they do when they come down here? They don't want to repent. They don't want to be better people. They want to fight, they think only for themselves trying to get to God's domain. Any one of them would kill their neighbor for their own selfish gains without so much as a second thought. You think you're all good hearted, Little one? You're _wrong_."

Kyle took a deep breath, dropping his eyes to the ground. "Then those people don't have anything worth being decent for," he replied softly. He turned his head back in Damien's grip and frowned. " _I_ do."

The noirette stared into his determined green gaze, a spark of elation flittering through him. "Your defiance exceeds even those being tortured," he observed. "Hell, complete isolation usually breaks any of them down in a couple of days. You somehow made it two weeks," he quirked his brow.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said firmly. "Maybe they are, but I'm not. Kenny's told me about you. I know you're nothing but an egotistic, sociopathic little bitch. Hate to break it to you, but I've spent my entire life dealing with a fat piece of shit that acts just like you," he quirked his brow. "I can't beat you physically, but I know how to make someone like you run crying to their mommy," he said superiorly.

Red eyes sparkled in amusement at the man's confidence, his overwhelming stubbornness in the midst of such a predicament. It was intriguing to say the least. "Well, McCormick wasn't afraid of me either, but showing him that I have you made him _terrified_. Just what do you think I can do to make _you_ as scared, hm?"

"Nothing," he scoffed. "You can't get to Kenny. And you can't get to my family," he smirked. "Ken's told me quite a few stories about you," he continued casually. "I'm more than aware of how you can only go to Earth once every few years. And you wasted it on abducting me. Pity."

"Smart Little one, aren't you?" he mirrored the expression, stroking his thumb along Kyle's jawline. "Guess I'll have to resort to more...primal methods," he stated, releasing his head and standing. Kyle watched him confusedly before falling forward as the roots around him unwound all at once. He groaned and cradled his temple, cringing at an ear-piercing whistle coming from the demon above him.

He heard a strange, bass-pitched sound and glanced up, eyes widening at a black portal appearing beside Damien's legs. He backed up slowly, Damien watching the concern on his face in amusement. Kyle gulped as a creature stepped through the portal, one paw at a time. A large black dog, head up to Damien's hip, came forth. A long, raw scar ran down the side of its muzzle and trailed down its neck. Bright, glowing red eyes to match that of Damien's focused on the redhead and a ferocious growl broke through a thick throat.

"This is a Hellhound," Damien announced, petting the dog and staring at Kyle still. "Vicious creatures to be sure," he shrugged. "Can tear you limb from limb if they so please."

"So what, you're just going to dismember me?" Kyle glared, still trying to back up from the monstrous dog's stare.

He shook his head. "Oh no, Little one. You'd be useless to me in that state. Besides, as I told McCormick, I plan to keep you as a little spoil of war," he raised his brow at Kyle shuddering. "But...no one said you had to be unharmed in the process..." He tongued over his fangs, scratching behind the dog's ear. "Now. Agree to aide me against Heaven or play with my dog here. Make your choice."

Kyle looked at him and narrowed his eyes. "Here, Puppy, Puppy," he spat defiantly.

Damien couldn't help but grin, cupping the dog's head and getting its attention on him. "No killing, no limb removal," he said. "That privilege belongs to me. Understand?" The dog let out a huff and he chuckled. "Go on then," he waved it away. Kyle tried getting up to run but the dog was on him in an instant, sinking razor sharp teeth into his arm and dragging him around, ash splaying around the both of them like clouds.

Damien watched the redhead screaming and beating on the dog's face, blood already rushing down his body like ribbons. Pain viciously shot through his paled expression, agonized sobs trying to work their way out as the dog shook him off balance time and again, throwing him around the barren wasteland as though he were nothing but a toy. Damien chuckled, crossing his arms and watching the show before him hungrily. He was right; This mortal was going to be _fun_.


	11. On the Path of Righteousness

" **He caused the storm to be still, So that the waves of the sea were hushed. Then they were glad because they were quiet, So He guided them to their desired haven." -** _ **Psalms 107:29-30**_

Walking through the city of Paradise was something that Kenny _thought_ he'd get to enjoy; to take in the grandeur of the metropolis in the clouds, each item towering so highly above him and shimmering as the beacons they were meant to be. However, every angel seeing the blonde stomping through the array of lightened pathways would think he'd found himself wandering through the filthy alley of a ghetto.

A permanent scowl seemed etched on his face anymore, whispers flummoxed about as he passed the glowing figures lazing around the numerous buildings. The rumors had flown immediately after Damien's departure, and Kenny didn't have enough collective sense to correct how wrong some of them had been. He'd heard flitters of how Damien came asking him to fight on his side, how it was his 'brother' being threatened, and how it wasn't even Damien, but just a trick. The blonde bristled. He _wished_ it was just a trick. He wished so desperately that what had transpired only two weeks beforehand was nothing more than a convincible illusion brought on by his own despair.

But no. Kenny knew better than that.

Unfortunately, the beings surrounding him did not. The other archangels kept what had transpired to themselves, knowing full and well that having angels coming up to Kenny expressing their sympathies could very well send the already-tumultuous man over the edge. But even through their silence, the truth had managed to show its face now and again, floating through the gossip train thin as air, the idea only passing through under the cover of others. Whispers occasionally breached Kenny's sharpened hearing. _'Lover', 'hostage', 'poor, poor boy...';_ Common words linked together that sent his deadened heart into a hysterical frenzy.

He looked down at his hand as he walked, seeing the way his fingers trembled and clutching them into a fist. His sword rested in its sheath, smacking against his leg as he walked through the busy hustle and bustle of Paradise. He could feel their eyes. He could feel them _all;_ Pitying, worrying, _warning_.

Kenny knew as well as any other: He was on a time limit. Unfortunately, his anger was preventing him from getting any further than flying around. His emotions were out of control and the archangels refused to help him begin wielding any bit of power, he was far too unstable to unleash anything. Their reluctance was only seating him deeper into the thralls of uncertainty, making him wonder if he'd _ever_ be well-suited enough to make something of this power that he'd been entrusted with. He wasn't feeling overly hopeful. He could barely calm himself down enough to get a drink let alone wield the powers of Heaven in his slender hands.

"Kenneth!" a voice shouted from above.

He glanced up, seeing Michael and Gabriel swooping down towards him and taking a deep breath. Seeing nothing but these two and Raphael was starting to wear on his nerves a bit. Only a month had passed and he was far past the point of wanting to break his lease and get away from them. Gabriel looked at him with those pitiable eyes that sent his edging nerves into an absolute stir. "How are you, Kenneth?"

"Fucking fantastic," he muttered. "Still shaking. Still pissed. Fiancé's probably dead or being tortured. I'm just a bundle of joy, I'll tell ya, Gabe."

The two of them let out long sighs and shook their heads. Michael walked over, pushing long hair out of his eyes and placing a hand on Kenny's shoulder. "Kenneth, we need you."

"I know," he murmured, guilt flickering within him for the cause but refusing to acknowledge it. Only _one_ thing in his universe required his guilt as far as he was concerned and he was trapped down in Hell with Damien doing who knew what to him.

Gabriel frowned, "Kenneth, wallowing will not get him back. You need to get yourself past this-"

"I _know_ ," he snapped, blue eyes bursting with a sudden spark of fury. "You think I don't fucking know that?" He looked between the two of them and took a deep breath. "All I've been hearing from all seven of you fuckers and Jesus is 'if you calm down you can fight and save him'," he mocked in a high voice, making faces all the while. He dropped back into a stony expression and let out a long breath through his nose. "Easier said than done."

"We know," Michael nodded softly. "We know how this is tearing you apart, Kenneth...which is why God wishes to speak to you."

"Oh? The one person who could've saved Kyle wants to talk to me?" he raised his brow before rolling his eyes and crossing his arms like a teenager throwing a tantrum. "I'm not interested."

Gabriel shook his head, walking over and grasping Kenny's other shoulder, the both of them turning him down a long pathway leading towards God's domain. "We know that you harbor anger towards Him," he said quietly. "You believe it to be His fault, but, Kenneth, God never would have wanted Kyle to be hurt."

"Some omnipotent being," he grumbled, reluctantly letting them lead him on. He wasn't particularly up to fighting them off regardless, but the idea of talking to God wasn't exactly high on Kenny's lists of 'wants' at the moment. He'd been avoiding the deity like crazy, hearing Him calling for him but flying away whenever he could. He just couldn't _stand_ to think about that soothing voice, the man filled with pure, boiling rage at the mere idea that God could foolishly tell him something along the lines of 'everything happens for a reason'. It took Kenny nearly a week to convince himself that he shouldn't just give up to Damien if God should spout something so juvenile at him in what he knew was an inevitable conversation.

"He will give you answers, even if they're not ones that you wish to hear," Gabriel continued, patting his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, they tell you that shit in church, too. That's what the preacher says when they don't want to give an actual fucking reason for something happening."

"For someone literally _standing in Heaven_ and being an archangel, you're sounding rather secular," Michael pointed out.

The blonde scoffed, "Well, I know this shit's real, but it doesn't mean I have to believe in it."

They looked at him silently for a moment, Gabriel holding up his hand subtly as Michael's temper tried to spiral out from under him. "Kenneth," the noirette said softly, "We need you to believe in Heaven. _Kyle_ needs you-"

"Okay, stop fucking using him against me," he shot, blue eyes blazing and locking into the older angel's stare. "Stop telling me how Kyle needs me to be strong or whatever."

"Well he _does_ ," Michael insisted.

Kenny growled, ripping his shoulders from their hands and stepping back away from them. They turned and watched him, blinking confusedly. "No," he hissed. "He _needed_ me to protect him from getting fucking kidnapped for your fucking fight. And I wasn't. Fucking. _There._ " He clutched his arms around each other, fingers digging into his muscle as he dropped his gaze to the clouds, grating his lip. "I wasn't _there_ ," he repeated in a whimper. Anger started to melt, dripping like tar into a heavy, sickening sadness that he'd been trying to avoid for two long weeks. The archangels stood in silence, the three of them drowning in the misery leaking off of Kenny's defeated stance, his still invigorated veins pulsing almost painfully in the quiet. They screamed of his heartache, of his overwhelming shame in what he believed he'd caused. He'd never felt like this before, like he literally caused the end of the world, or at least, his own.

"And he is thankful that you were not there," a voice poked through the tense moment. They looked over to see God meandering towards them, eyes firmly locked on the poor blonde.

"Whaddya mean?" he whispered.

His dark pupils softened and He let out a long sigh. "Kyle is not a fool, Kenneth, you know this. He knows that had you been there, Damien would have killed you both, maybe even found the way to keep you gone permanently. He knows what the potential alternative could have been."

Kenny gulped, dropping down to his knees slowly in front of the creature, refusing to release his grip around his over-stimulated body. "God?" he whispered, raising his eyes, filled with glistening tears up to His face, "why didn't you protect him?" He wanted to be furious, he wanted to grab the being and shake Him...but he couldn't. All he could feel was such overwhelming depression, such loss as he stared at who was _supposed_ to be the guiding light. Kenny couldn't help but feel betrayed, feeling as though the only place he'd been guided to was his own personal Hell and he'd just gotten lucky with the locale.

God's shoulders slunk at the pure emotion He could feel waning off of Kenny onto Himself and He let out a long breath. "I...hate to admit this to you, Kenneth, but I know you won't accept anything less than the truth." Kenny nodded, grateful to an extent that He knew not to bullshit the blonde anymore than need-be. "Kenneth, I didn't think of it," He admitted. "It never once crossed my mind that Kyle would be in danger. I sincerely apologize. Otherwise I would have found some way to keep him from Damien's hands...I am deeply sorry," He said, voice filled with genuine regret.

"But...you know _everything_ ," he emphasized.

"Doesn't mean I can keep up with it," He smirked sadly. "If I knew everything and could handle it all, there would be no war for us to be thrust into. There would be no need for _any_ archangels. The idea of Kyle's vulnerability passed through the motions without me recognizing it as a tangible threat to you. Once again, I am truly sorry."

Kenny sat in silence for a few moments, clear eyes listlessly scanning over God's sympathetic face. He knew it wasn't God's fault. It wasn't _his_ fault, either. It was Damien's. Every ounce of every problem could all be traced back to the conniving son of a bitch. But Kenny still couldn't help but feel such an anger, such a slap of pure, deep-rooted fury against himself. He should've been able to do _something_.

"Kenneth," God's voice brought him back out of his self-loathing. He paused, staring at the helpless blonde and reaching forward with a paw, placing it on his arm with the geniality of a father. "Love is a terrible, terrible thing," He said.

Kenny blinked, not quite sure that he heard Him right. "What?"

He smiled, stepping back and motioning for Kenny to follow Him before pivoting and beginning to slowly saunter away. The blonde stumbled onto his feet, making haste after Him with Michael and Gabriel silently trailing behind the two of them in observation. "Love," God continued, "Can do many things. Make someone's life better, feed the hungry, clothe the homeless," He shrugged. "Love can make it seem as though it is the reason for the world turning. And, in some respects, that's correct."

"Okay..." Kenny raised his brow, walking beside Him and looking down at Him feeling completely stumped.

"However, love can so very easily be your undoing. Everyone knows this," He said simply. "Love can make a man go mad, can make the sweetest of people turn into an absolute monster..." He looked up at Kenny in concern. "You and Kyle share a very fatal flaw."

He cocked his head, "We do?"

The deity nodded solemnly. "To save each other, you would both let the world turn to ashes."

Kenny frowned, "Look, we love each other, no goddamn doubt..." he paused. "Uh, no offense."

"None taken," He chuckled lightly.

"But we also know that others come first," he continued softly. "I'm pissed to shit and scared out of my mind for him...and I know Ky, he's the same for me. But we _also_ know that we're not the only people that matter."

"To each other, you are," He raised his brow, stopping his gait. Kenny stumbled as he noticed and tried to stop beside Him, watching as God slowly floated Himself up onto the ledge of a window to stare straight-on at the blonde. "Your love is valiant, it is pure...but it is _dangerous_ ," He warned. "On Earth, what you two share is a wonderful thing. Trapped in the afterlife...it could spell _both_ of your deaths, as well as everyone else on Earth."

Kenny scowled, "I told you, we-"

He held up His paw, stopping the blonde's repetition and shaking His head. "Kenneth, I want you to think of how you've been these last two weeks. You haven't been thinking about how to fight Damien, only how to save Kyle."

"Which is by fighting Damien," he scoffed.

"You're focusing on the _wrong aspect_ of this fight, Kenneth," He said sternly. "You cannot think about the goal, only the journey."

He rolled his eyes, "God, come on. You sound like a fortune cookie."

"Kenneth, watch your tongue," Michael warned from the side, leaning against the building with Gabriel and staring at him intensely.

God held up His paw, "Michael, thank you, but stay out of this." He turned back to look at the man in front of Him. "Perhaps I do," He nodded. "But you know I'm right, don't you?"

He shifted, crossing his arms and shrugging listlessly. "I guess."

The hardened look on His face dropped as Kenny's position slouched a tad. "What's on your mind, my son?"

He was silent for a few moments before letting out a long breath. "I'm scared," he admitted. He dropped his gaze to the ground, kicking at a cloud listlessly. "Of everything. I could die. I could lose the war. I could get Kyle killed...there's so much here that _I_ could do wrong and everyone's counting on me and the most I've ever been counted on for is picking up dinner now and again and sometimes I even fuck that up because Kyle's allergic to so fucking much and sometimes I forget and-" he stopped his nonsensical rampage as God put a paw on his arm lovingly, staring at him with those kind eyes.

"Whatever you need, we will help you," He assured him. "We know how much pressure you feel, but the world is not only in your hands, Kenneth. You will have help every step of the way, I swear this to you."

Kenny took a long breath, wiping at his eyes and sniffling, giving Him a small nod. "Okay," he whispered.

"For now, Kyle is safe," He promised. "Focus on you. Focus on your enemy. Fight _for_ him, but not by being dependent on him. Do you understand what I mean, Kenneth?"

He nodded again. "It's hard," he said meekly.

"I know," He mused. "And it will be. But the sooner you get yourself to that point, the sooner you learn to fight, and the sooner you destroy your target. All right?"

He took a long, shuddery breath. "All right."

"Good," He nodded curtly. He grasped Kenny's hand and smiled, "you're already calming immensely," He said in approval. "Soon you'll be able to begin your training."

"How soon?" he asked, chest hurting with an overflow of emotions that he didn't even want to _begin_ trying to sort into something understandable within him.

He gave him a grin and chuckled. "You are stable enough now that I believe you can at least begin on your swordsmanship," He shrugged. "Go to the arena, Raphael will start you off, all right?"

"Okay," he nodded. He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. "God...I know I need to focus on Damien or whatever...but..."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," God said, reading his question with ease. "Should anything go awry, I will know, and you will be informed immediately. All right?"

Kenny's entire body visibly relaxed and a grateful smile ghosted over thin lips. "Thank you," he whispered, hesitating before leaning down and clutching the deity in a brief hug. He released Him just as quickly and pivoted, his wings arching up and propelling him off into the sky, the remaining three watching as he headed out towards the arena.

God sighed tiredly, shaking His head. Gabriel stepped beside Him, eyes still on the sky. "Poor kid," he murmured. "So much on his head."

"Indeed," God agreed with a nod. "But he's a strong boy. He'll find a way to stave through this all, I'm sure."

Michael took a deep breath, shifting uneasily. "God?" he asked timidly, watching for those serpent-like eyes to drift back onto him. "God...you said before that the world _was_ in Kenneth's hands. Were you just trying to make him feel better just then or...?" he trailed off with a small, questioning shrug.

God sighed again, His shoulders dropping along with His head. "No. I was right before...but now the situation has changed. The world's got more to hope for than just Kenny now."

"Whaddya mean?" Gabriel asked blankly, eyes tracing over a cloud shape.

The deity's eyes slipped shut; hazy, muddled visions of red and green irises and fangs flashing through His mind along with the rest of the jumble of the world. A clear voice screaming for Kenny echoed within the mess, rising above the rest with a strong vibrato of power and fear. He looked back and out towards where Kenny had flown, sharp teeth biting over His lip gently. "Let's just hope that for once, the devil won't know how to best a mortal."


	12. The Trial of Job

**There is no soundness in my flesh because of Your indignation; There is no health in my bones because of my sin. For my iniquities are gone over my head; As a heavy burden they weigh too much for me. My wounds grow foul and fester Because of my folly.** _**-Psalms 38:3-5** _

Something was wrong. Something was so _very_ wrong.

Kyle couldn't figure it out for the life of him, lying on his prison floor writhing subtly in agony. He whimpered, trying to turn onto his side. With considerable effort, he managed to swivel up onto his hip, body curling into itself as he broke into another round of tremors. His hands clasped around his arms and he cringed as his right palm fell over his stab wound. In the minimal light beaming through his door, he had been able to make out how very disfigured the scar had become over the last week.

A string of bile rose through his throat as his fingers stroked over the wound, noting its yellow and purple discoloring, the way that it felt oily and slick to the touch. The connotation was obvious: it was infected. He groaned as another set of shakes took him over, his body bathed in cold sweat.

The pain just added to the hell he'd already been dealing with the past week, fighting through bite and scratch marks in his arm and shoulder. His side had a nice long burn from sliding through ash and gravel as he was thrown about, still heated through what remained of the flesh. His right eye was in a constant battle between giving him a fuzzy vision and none at all, a nice scratch riding down his profile and over the eye, marking his cornea and trailing down to the end of his nose from Damien's little pet. Kyle hissed as he tried to move again, right ankle throbbing angrily as he tried to use it for leverage. Judging from his inability to walk without nearly crying, he'd just had to figure that it was either fractured or severely twisted. Either way, it was the least of his problems.

A constant burn was coursing through his veins, his mind barely able to comprehend the simplest of thoughts. Only Kenny and pain seemed to be able to stay seated within his weary head. Almost as if a cord was tightened inside of his lungs, his breath stopped momentarily, his body fighting to regain its control before letting him resume his normal pace. It had been happening _constantly_ the past week, starting right after Damien had finally called off his dog and dragged a nearly-unconscious Kyle back to his prison. Left to bleed in silence for two days certainly hadn't helped Kyle any, ending up nearly paralyzed once Damien finally sent a few demons in to clean him. Gragor had been in there to hold him still, but hadn't had to so much as touch him as weak as he was. He couldn't stop the pain, couldn't seem to fight through it as he usually could so much else, and worst of all, he didn't know just what it was that was wrong with him. Something felt off, as though it wasn't something any doctor could tell him. In the back of his frazzled mind, a deep, worrisome feeling resonated.

His eyes lazily focused on the ceiling, his hand dropping weakly from his arm and landing atop one of his abandoned pieces of bread. He hadn't been able to eat for nearly four days, just too hurt and too nauseous to make the strenuous effort of chewing. The redhead's body jolted a bit as pains rocketed through each of his limbs and his torso. His head was pounding, tumultuous rhythms picking up and losing speed time and again. Nothing seemed consistent, everything happening seemed to pick him apart piece by piece.

Sudden light broke through the small room, Kyle barely able to react to it before a blurry figure popped above him. He opened his mouth to speak, nothing but a pained rasp breaking through his throat.

"Poor Little one," a voice cooed. Kyle narrowed his eyes as best he could, ignoring the sweat trying to flood over his lashes.

"Leave," he demanded meekly.

Damien raised his brow amusedly, kneeling down beside the fallen redhead and pushing some hair off his face. "But then I don't get to see you suffer," he mock-pouted. "And it's just the highlight of my day, Little one."

Kyle groaned, trying to roll away from him, held steady by Damien barely grasping his face. Burning green eyes glanced towards the demonic figure, Damien entranced by the slim line of milky overlay atop Kyle's right iris. "What do you _want_?" Kyle demanded tiredly.

"Wanted to see how you're handling the poison," he said casually.

Kyle's heart nearly stopped at the word, face falling into complete despair. "Wh...What?" he whispered, clouded thoughts trying to break clean, trying to make sense of the information he'd just been presented with.

Damien chuckled, reaching over and grasping his left arm, stroking over his stab wound genially. "It was self-inflicted, Little one," he smirked. Kyle coughed as he tried to fight for his words, body convulsing in agony. His frantic mind tried scanning over his actions, wondering if Damien had managed to poison his food or water in the last few weeks. He cried out as Damien grabbed under him, sitting him up and staring at his sweat-drenched face straight on with a vile grin. "You stabbed first," he said simply.

"H-huh?" he blinked, shaking his head slightly and trying to work out of his stupor.

The noirette shrugged, "Do you know what happens to blood when a toxin is introduced, Little one?" Kyle was silent, staring at him with wide, scared eyes. "I'm sure you do," he smirked. "McCormick loved to rag about how smart you are," he pinched his cheek. "But, did you know that _my_ blood is poisonous, at least to mortals?" he grinned slyly. Kyle's entire body began to shake, even through his fuzziness, knowing that he was in serious trouble. Damien continued on, pushing curls back into their place nonchalantly, "Do you recall how I told McCormick that if anyone touched you aside from Gragor or myself, you'd succumb to a vicious poison?" He smiled sweetly, Kyle's expression slowly falling into a horrified realization. "Valefor made sure to get that job done for me, didn't he?" he asked, stroking a thumb over a large bite mark riding the redhead's forearm.

Kyle scowled as much as he could, trembling out of control. A sudden cold overtook his body and he repressed an agonized whimper, keeping his blurred vision locked in Damien's red stare. "I...I'm not useful if I'm dead," he reminded him with a harsh whisper.

He cocked his brow, "Is that you saying that you want to join my army, Little one? Give yourself to my side?"

"No," he spat.

"But...think of McCormick," he challenged. "Think of how _hurt_ he'd be if you died. Little one, you'll never see him again if you do this," he said lowly. "If you let the venom take you, you lose _him_."

Kyle fell silent, jaw trembling. He sniffled, tonguing over dried lips. "No," he repeated, this time a soft whisper flooding the minimal space between them.

Damien shook his head slowly. "You stubborn little mortal," he growled. He grabbed his infected arm, staring at the revolting wound before looking up into Kyle's shaky stare. "What is it that you think you can accomplish here?" he questioned. "You're not getting out. You're not getting your moron back. And you're walking towards Death's door. What is it you're after?"

Kyle's body slumped in his grip exhaustedly, glazed eyes scanning him up and down. "He'll win," he whispered hoarsely. "He'll win."

He rolled his eyes. "Not if you die he won't," he said. "You think that he's going to get a large boost of strength if you keel over? No. You know just as much if not more than myself of how he acts when he's upset." Kyle's eyelids fluttered and he began to sway, nearly falling over before Damien caught him behind his neck, holding his limp form up with his claws digging lightly into his skin as he forced his attention to remain front and center. "He gets foolhardy," he reminded him. "Determined? Sure. But he forgets how to _think_. He'll come at me with so much anger and distraction that he'll leave himself open for attack."

Kyle's mouth partially opened, but slowly it closed itself once again, looking at the demon with as much anger as he could muster. A good minute of silence sans Kyle's raspy breathing filled the void, both sets of determined eyes locked in one another's. "No," he finally said once more.

He shrugged, "Fine, then die. Know that you killed yourself, McCormick, and the world. I hope your pride is worth it." He dropped the redhead, letting him slam into the stone weakly and getting to his feet. "I'll send someone to collect your corpse after awhile," he said calmly. "Try not to vomit _too_ much blood, hm? It's a bitch to clean," he smirked. He took a lingering gaze at Kyle's defeated, confused face before making way out of the prison, slamming the door behind him and chuckling, looking to see Gragor and Satan blinking at him expectantly.

"Well?" Gragor urged. "Master Damien, did he take the deal or not?"

Damien raised an amused brow. "Deal? My friend, there's no deal needed," he smiled. "As soon as McCormick's little bitch in there has a moment of weakness...he's _mine_ ," he shoved his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly walking past the both of them. Satan followed after, Gragor pouting as he looked at Kyle's door. "He's not going anywhere, Gragor," Damien called. "He can't sit up, let alone run for it. You may tag along." The demon's eyes brightened and he hurried after the two of them, both he and The Beast looking down at Damien curiously.

"What exactly did you do, Damien?" Satan raised his brow.

"Laid the foundation of doubt," he laughed maliciously. He looked up at his father and offered a sly grin. "I told you, McCormick's bitch has a fighter's heart. His stubborn little ass will be his undoing."

"What do you mean, My Lord?" Gragor cocked his head, hopping over a stray-away branch in their path.

"The longer he resists me, the more the poison sets itself within his body, and the more power he gets," he chuckled. "More importantly, the more control he gives to me."

Gragor's brows furrowed, "He didn't make a deal though."

"Technically he did," Satan said softly. "When he spilt Damien's blood, it indicated some level of consent to the mixture. And then when Damien stabbed him back, he didn't deny him a deal. He unknowingly put himself into a contract when their blood mixed." Gragor looked at him confusedly and The Beast shrugged, scratching his head. "Mortal and demon blood shouldn't mix unless it's for a ritual. Even if the mortal doesn't know it, their blood is branded with the demon's signature just waiting for a contract to be struck."

"Precisely," Damien beamed. "Since he went into it blindly he had to be given another chance to deny involvement with me. I gave him his second chance to back out when I sent Valefor after him while he was infected by me as well," he laughed darkly. "He missed both opportunities to get out of a deal, so now I get to play him right into my hands."

"How cruel," Gragor smirked.

"Ain't it though?" he winked. "All we have to do is wait for him to fulfill the terms I set and open himself up to be infected completely..." he tongued over his lips. "That fool fell right into the contract when he admitted that McCormick was worth everything to him. Should have just kept his _love_ to himself," he rolled his eyes snarkily. "Now he gets to be _my_ bitch."

Satan nodded slowly at his words, staring at the ground in thought as they walked. "What if he dies, Damien?"

He scoffed and waved his hand dismissively, "Please, you think I'd let the little fuck die? If I do, McCormick will kill me, no doubt about it," he grumbled. Convincing Kyle otherwise wasn't an arduous task, but Damien was no fool. Kenny was far too protective, and not being able to have Kyle as a bargaining chip would lead to Hell's ruin. He needed the leverage that only Kyle could provide him, and that would wash away in the tide if he let him succumb to his torture. "I have him on a weak resistance spell," he explained. "It'll be enough to keep him from keeling over, but he'll _think_ that he's about to die. The closer he gets to that point, the more likely he is to have a lapse in his little morals and open up to the possibilities I set for him."

The three of them walked in silence for a bit, each of them running through the possibilities. Satan could only imagine Kenny's face should Damien's idea go through, his own turning into a frown at the thought. He sighed inwardly, knowing that their ends justified the means, but it didn't mean that he couldn't feel a tad of a niggling guilt in the back of his mind. However, he was more than aware that there were going to be a _lot_ of victims in this war, Kyle was just an unfortunate happenstance.

Damien, however, couldn't keep the wide grin from his own profile. He was so close to having such a huge lead. He could have complete control over the redhead, could make him nearly as powerful as himself. He could send Kyle himself to snap Kenny's neck. He bristled excitedly, imagining the devastation on Kenny's face as his lover finished him off, only for Kyle to come back to his own senses in the aftermath and fall to pieces upon realizing what he'd done. Damien's stomach curled, his anticipation reaching its maximum. There were so many possibilities. So many ways that he could take complete hold over the situation at hand. All he needed was for Kyle to slip. Just one tiny little fraction of a second would be enough. He could hardly contain himself.

"Master Damien?" Gragor's voice broke through his insides dancing.

"Yes?" he quirked his brow.

The monster cleared his throat lightly, "Sir...What happens... _after_ the war?" he questioned with a wince.

Satan blinked, "What do you mean?"

"What happens to that little weakling after the war?" he jerked his head back in the direction of Kyle's prison. "Will he still have your power or..."

He nodded, "Yeah, he will. He won't be able to part with them, it'll be infused too deep in his blood." He sighed and shrugged dismissively. "I'll find something to do with him. Maybe make him into my right hand man..." he paused, smirking at Gragor's subtle pout. "After you of course, Gragor," he patted his shoulder with an amused eyeroll.

"I very highly doubt Kyle would consent to working for you full time," Satan crossed his arms and sighed. "Damien, I have a bad feeling about this whole thing."

He slapped his arm lightly, "Pops, chill out," he said. "You forget just how good I am at breaking mortals. This one is no different."

"Except he _is_ ," he insisted sternly. "Otherwise you would have grabbed another mortal, one who'd happily trade you their soul for such power."

He shook his head, "Only _he_ has the advantage over McCormick. Anyone else, that blonde idiot would just consider them a necessary casualty and strike them down. If it's his bitch that I stick in front of us as a shield, well...Mortals have a habit of listening to their hearts as opposed to reason, don't they?" he raised his brow at him.

Satan grated his teeth together a bit, nodding mindlessly. "I still feel like this isn't going to work out, Damien."

"Well that's why _I_ am in charge this time around," he rolled his eyes. "It's simple enough. I take control of him, he takes control of Heaven, and I put him back in his place." He looked towards their front and took a deep breath, eyes grazing over suffering mortals every which way. "Gragor, how goes your spell hunting?"

"We believe we're getting closer, Sir," he said firmly. "We're finding old spells that came from the time the one you're searching for emerged from. We should have it within the next few days if all goes according to plan."

"Excellent," he nodded approvingly. "Banishing your little cretins is becoming rather tiresome, you know."

Gragor chuckled nervously and nodded, "I can only imagine, My Lord."

Damien smiled once more as he continued leading them through the thrall, closing his eyes and finding a clear picture of Kyle as he lied in his prison. He was curled into a fetal position and crying softly, face contorted in such pain that Damien nearly felt a residual ache just from looking at him. He opened his eyes once again and chuckled to himself. It wouldn't be long before his little mortal broke and he found himself not only in control of an army of them, but one that would nearly rival himself in power. He licked his lips, his imagination throwing him through a whirlwind of Kenny and Kyle locked against each other in battle, the both of them suffering whilst Damien and the legions of Hell snuck under Kenny's eye and seized control. It was almost too beautiful, so picturesque that he nearly couldn't take it.

He took a deep, cleansing breath. His time was almost here, and Kenny and Kyle's times were almost up.


	13. On His Own Authority

" **The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps." -** _ **Proverbs 16:9**_

Something about the way that the sunlight beamed off of his blade was entrancing. Twisting it within the rays, Kenny could see each individual scrap of metal fused to create his weapon. It was nothing short of stunning, though he couldn't help but wonder if it was going to be enough. Something about the way Damien's eyes sparkled before he whisked Kyle off haunted the back of Kenny's mind. The idea that he had a backup plan was nothing short of terrifying in a way for the blonde. He'd seen snippets of Damien's mind at work before, whether it be for something as simple as getting out of doing his daily duties or conjuring up different ways to torment a particularly unique sinner. He always had _something_ diabolical going on.

Before it'd been almost a process of wonderment, watching Damien stewing to himself for a few minutes, mumbling to himself with a furrowed brow as he tried to figure out his best course of action. If Kenny ever had to give the demon credit for anything, it would definitely be his ability to plan for _everything_. He had an uncanny knack for tearing through and closing off any loopholes there were. He was always one for thought, not action. Kenny bristled. He was just like _Kyle_. Ken himself was more for jumping into things, at least with smaller things. He was so rarely thrown into experiences with large consequences for other people he wasn't sure _how_ to go about plotting a course of action. But that's what Kyle was for. He thought things through for the both of them before letting Kenny loose to lead them through the fray.

And now? Now Kenny felt nothing short of lost. His conductor was gone was gone and the symphony couldn't keep the tempo in check. He was blindfolded and being shoved out into the darkness with nothing but a damn sword and a half-assed sense of who he was up against.

He bit his thumbnail nervously, wondering just what it was he was going to be up against. Could he handle it? Could Kyle? He wasn't an idiot, Damien was going to use him in _some_ way, whether it just be for a meat shield or, knowing him, something much more sinister. The mere idea pushed a lump into his throat and sent a cold shake down his spine. Damien could do some _awful_ things when he put his mind to it, and he couldn't help but just pray it wouldn't be as bad as he knew it could turn out to be...Or possibly even worse.

"Kenneth, are you all right?" a soft voice broke over him. He blinked, looking up to see Raphael cocking his head sympathetically.

"Yeah," he nodded before pausing, his body slinking into itself. "I mean...I don't know, Raph," he said softly.

He smiled knowingly, holding out a hand to help the man onto his feet. Kenny hesitated before grasping it back and sighing as he was hoisted back up. "The better we get you with this, the better chances you have of defeating him," he pointed to his sword and raised his brow. "Shall we continue?"

Kenny sighed and nodded tiredly. "When am I going to get to the actual power thing?" he pouted.

"Whenever you calm down," he chuckled, waving him beside him and taking flight. Kenny quickly found his bearings and hopped up beside him, heading down into the arena below them. "You're better, but you're still too anxious to start tapping in."

He rolled his eyes but knew well enough how true it was. The shakes still hadn't stopped, though they were coming and going a lot more spastically. He was nearing the bottom, but just couldn't seem to get that last bit to let go of him. A week of working on swordsmanship hadn't done much for him but shown him how ridiculously untalented he was with a weapon. He was immensely thankful that the blade couldn't hurt anyone in Heaven's good graces considering how many time he'd slammed the sword into his forehead after hitting a damn target.

The both of them landed, looking around at the empty area and Kenny raised his brow. "Where is everyone?"

"Giving you space," he shrugged, casually, pulling out Liberality. "You seem to work better when there are less of us around."

He sheepishly cleared his throat, "Sorry."

He chuckled, "Kenneth, you're fine. Now, come on, hold your sword," he gestured.

Kenny smirked, flipping it in his hand a bit. "Ol' Nameless?"

Raphael smiled, running his thumb over Liberality's blade. "Once you wield it without question, its identity will become apparent." Kenny nodded and took a deep breath, grasping the hilt in both hands and giving it a few test swings downwards. The archangel watched him a few times, tonguing over his lips dryly. "Loosen up, Kenneth," he instructed, taking his sword and lightly tapping his inner elbow. The blonde nodded subtly, trying to adjust as told.

Kenny watched as Raphael stepped in front of him at about two feet and raised his sword to meet his. "A-are we actually sparring?" he blinked.

He shook his head. "No, you're going to have to learn how to guard correctly first." He looked the blonde up and down and nodded, "All right. Stand with the foot of your stronger side to the back."

"Won't that make me weaker?" he narrowed his eyes confusedly.

He shook his head once more, "You'll deliver more power if you're pushing off with it. Stand with it twisted to the side. You'll be able to hold better ground so someone doesn't throw you off-kilter and open you up for attack."

Kenny gulped, a shudder jolting through him with the mental image of an enemy sword slicing through him like butter. He did as told, looking to see Raphael watching him approvingly. "Like this?"

"Relax your back a bit, your wings are on the fritz," he teased. Kenny looked behind him, seeing his wings were indeed practically shuddering. He took a deep, calming breath, rolling his shoulders and letting his muscles simmer down from their tense stance. Raphael smiled and nodded, "Good. Now, place your hand on the pommel of the hilt and hold it against your hipbone." He demonstrated and Kenny followed suit.

He gulped as Liberality was tilted up at an angle, focused right on his Adam's apple. "I thought this was a guard, not an attack," he stared down the blade a bit nervously. Despite the knowledge it couldn't hurt him, there was always apprehension in staring down the barrel of an unloaded rifle.

"It is," he said, taking a few steps back, his feet remaining in their stance. "This is the Plfug. It gives you the perfect opportunity to size up your opponent."

Kenny looked at him as though the angel were stupid. "The _Plfug_?" he repeated.

He chuckled, "It's German. Pay attention, Kenneth." Kenny pouted but nodded. "Tilt your sword up towards my throat," he directed, watching as the blonde did so, licking his lips in concentration. "Good. This will prevent anyone from being able to get to you without severely lowering their defenses."

Ken nodded slowly, grating his lip. "Okay...and then do I just like, stab their throat?" he winced, poking towards Raphael's neck.

He smirked, "Not unless they're fools and have no idea how to step to the side to try to attack you. I have a feeling Damien will have a better trained army than that."

He sighed dramatically, "A guy can _hope_ that they're as retarded as I am when it comes to this stuff, ya know."

"You are not 'retarded'," he rolled his eyes amusedly. "No one is a master of the sword on their first few days, Kenneth. Have faith in yourself and your sword will guide the way."

"Riiiight," he said skeptically. "Then what do I do?"

Raphael moved himself slowly to the side and maneuvered his weapon up with the blade near Kenny's cheek. "What do you _think_ you should do? Sometimes you can't rely on instructions, but on instinct."

Kenny blinked, taking a deep breath and looking their positions up and down, letting his body how he thought was accordingly. He took his front foot and moved it back, pivoting his body around and pressing his blade against the top third of Raphael's. "Like this?" he winced. Raphael grunted, hitting Kenny's sword and sending him toppling down onto the ground awkwardly on his wing. "Hey!" Kenny pouted. "A yes or no would have been fine, ya know!"

"What did I say about your feet?" he raised his brow. "If you're going to move, you need to get your strong foot behind you as quickly as possible. Otherwise you're going to lose your balance and your opponent _will_ take advantage of you. And do _not_ place your sword so close to their blade's tip, they can easily slide off and it'll go straight through you, understand?" Kenny pouted but nodded, getting to his feet again and taking position. He licked over his lips and quickly moved himself, his right foot sliding seamlessly behind him. He found his leverage and pressed against the middle of Raphael's blade, shoving him a few steps backwards. "Very good," he nodded. "Let's try it for real."

Kenny nodded, both of them standing across from each other. Raphael quickly moved himself to the side, his sword poised to strike. He swung down and Kenny's body went into a blind trepidation, jumping back and out of the way. He slammed his sword atop Raphael's blade, holding it down against the floor and raised his foot, kicking the angel in the stomach. Raphael lost his grip on his sword and flew back, landing on the arena floor with a groan as Kenny pivoted quickly and pointed his blade down at Raphael's face. The angel backed up and sat himself up, running his hand through his short brown locks as he looked at Kenny in astonishment. The blonde blinked before realizing just what he'd done, dropping his sword and running over to help him up. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he insisted. "Jesus fucking Christ I panicked and just kind of went with it and-"

Raphael held his hand up, chuckling breathlessly as he got back to his feet with Kenny's assistance. "Don't apologize. That was...definitely not by the book, but it got the job done. Were I a demon, you would have easily been able to slash open my belly by now." Kenny stared at him, blue eyes still filled with guilt. The brunette licked over his lips thoughtfully, "Tell me, Kenneth, are you an impulsive person?"

He shrugged, "Depends on what it's for. Kyle thinks I am, that's why he gives me an allowance," he pouted. "You buy _one_ box of sex toys on sale for a few hundred dollars and all of a sudden you're 'irresponsible'," he waved his hands and rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and huffed, "I spent a good half hour considering it so I don't think-"

He held up his hand once again, "Kenneth. I'm being serious."

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah I guess I am," he admittedly sheepishly, scratching through his hair. "Ky likes to think things through but I like to just jump into a party, ya know? We kinda balance each other out," he held up his palms like a scale. "He always said he liked that side of me," he smiled sadly, his eyes glistening over.

"And with good reason," Raphael commented softly. "Kenneth, your impulse is what's going to bring you through this war."

"And my fear of death," he scoffed.

The archangel cocked his head, "What do you mean?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Seeing that sword coming at me was like every other fucking death I've had to deal with all my life...And I try like hell to avoid them. I don't _like_ to die, regardless of how much I do it," he rolled his eyes. He reached down and picked up their swords, handing Liberality back to the man standing across from him. He stroked the hilt of his own with his thumb and sighed tiredly. "Especially these last few years I've been running out of the way of trucks and throwing myself out of the path of angry animals and all kinds of shit. I can't avoid them all, but I've been trying."

"For Kyle?" he guessed.

He shrugged, "Yeah, and myself..." he looked up and took a deep breath. "Funny thing is, one of my _biggest_ fears was that my death would cause Kyle's, too. There've been other people in the path of a runaway train destined for me, ya know? And now he's involved with this whole thing...It's like my own personal fucking nightmare," he muttered. He looked up to see the angel staring at him sympathetically. "Can...can I ask you a question?"

He nodded, "Certainly."

"Why don't you lecture me like Mike and Gabe? he quirked his brow.

The brunette chuckled, "Because I'm almost as untrained in this matter as you are."

He blinked, "Wait, what?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "I'm a healer, not a fighter," he admitted. "My job has always been to nurture and aid the sick and helpless, not raise a sword and strike somebody down. They only taught me the art of the sword a few years ago. I was as lost as yourself when you came to help us in the last war."

Kenny licked over his lips and nodded slowly, "So...you get it, then."

He smiled sadly, "I do. That's why Michael is not training you as of yet. Once you are more practiced, he'll take over since he's the leader of us and is more skilled in the art of warfare. It was he who sent Satan down to where he is now, you know," he raised his brow.

"Really? How'd he do that?" he asked curiously, unable to see the jerk who yelled at him all the time actually being a badass on the side.

"You'll have to ask him yourself, he doesn't like to talk about it," he shrugged. He chuckled softly at Kenny's resulting pout, placing a strong hand on the young man's shoulder. "Kenneth, instinct and free will are God's greatest gifts...and his most grievous mistakes," he said lowly. "For you, they will be your salvation if you figure out how to channel them to your advantage."

He bit his lip lightly, "So, no more book learning?"

He laughed, "A few basics here and there, but we'll test you more with what you've shown me today. Some people are better at reading what they need to do, and some must learn by jumping headfirst and seeing where they land. If what you just pulled on me was not merely dumb luck, then you may have more of a shot than you have led yourself on to believe."

"I hope so," he said softly. "This is too goddamn important for luck's sake. Lady luck has a hell of a grudge against me, after all," he smirked lightly.

"She is a fickle creature, isn't she?" he teased. "Now, let's try another move here and see where you stand," he said, stepping back from him. "Do not hold back. Remember: you can't hurt me," he reminded him.

Kenny nodded, getting back into his plfug position and waiting. Raphael's sharp hazel eyes scanned over him and he took a deep breath, pushing off and winging himself to the side, letting his sword swing down towards the back of Kenny's knees. The blonde growled, thrusting his sword down to clang against the other's, letting them contact before turning himself and raising their swords up together, Raphael's movements captive to his own. He pushed back, sending Raphael stumbling and putting himself back into position. Kenny bent his knees and pushed himself towards the brunette's side, imitating his move. The angel moved to block in the same manner as Kenny beforehand, eyes widening as the blonde suddenly changed tactics, ducking down a bit and planting his feet. He lurched himself to the side opposite Raphael's sword and slammed his blade into his upper thigh. Blue eyes raised up to him and a small smirk played on his pale face. "Got'cher leg," he teased.

He laughed, "Indeed you did. Very impressive. I may actually have to start trying," he raised his brow amusedly.

"Kick my ego s'more, why dontcha?" he rolled his eyes with a smile, leaning up and putting his blade over his shoulder casually. "So will the plugfer or whatever work all the time?"

He snorted, "The _plfug_ is your basic guard. I would suggest it for most situations, yes. I'll show you a couple others, but we may be able to-"

"Kenneth!" a voice shouted. They both looked up in shock, seeing Gabriel flying towards them quickly. He landed in front of the two, worry scratched over his blue eyes and his expression paled and sickly.

"Gabriel, what happened?" Raphael asked, blinking rapidly.

"You okay? Whaddya need me for?" Kenny questioned, scanning the frantic angel up and down.

He gulped, clenching his fists nervously. "You need to see God. Immediately."

Kenny's stomach dropped, his chest tightening. "Why?" he whispered, dreading the answer that he could see plainly written out within the confines of the archangel's eyes.

He took a deep breath, nodding to him slowly, knowing that he already knew. "It's Kyle."


	14. By the Hands of the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting some blood up in here so discretion advised and whatnot. Of course it's a story about war. You guys probably shoulda seen this comin'.

" **Therefore, since Christ has suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same purpose, because he who has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, so as to live the rest of the time in the flesh no longer for the lusts of men, but for the will of God." -** _ **Peter 4:1-2**_

Walking into the dark prison once again, Damien took a deep breath, smiling to himself at the flux of anguish lingering within the air like the finest of fragrances. He glanced over on the floor to find Kyle curled up and choking on air, limbs randomly having spasms and his head twitching. He walked closer, finding the redhead's face scrunched in agony, a pool of sweat underneath of the frail boy. He shivered. It was nearly time.

"It's been a week now, Little one, are you feeling any better?" he asked with a grin. Kyle merely whimpered, lacking the energy to so much as look up at the monster hovering above him. He didn't know _how_ he was still alive. He hadn't eaten for nearly two weeks, only drinking when Damien's little minion bastards forced water down his throat. He hadn't been able to move, to speak, to do _anything_ since Damien had seen him last. All he _wanted_ at this point was to just die. The pain was unbearable, he couldn't keep a coherent thought for anything.

He groaned as Damien leaned down and grabbed his hair, yanking him up on the sides of his legs. He weakly opened his eyes, Damien nothing but a fuzzy blur. His mind vaguely recognized him as a threat but didn't have the energy to exude the slightest bit of defensive strategy. Damien's eyes slid down to his stab wound, now infected to the point it spread down to his elbow. "You may lose that arm," he relayed casually. The words struck a meek chord within the redhead but he couldn't be bothered to work through and figure it out. His lips parted, moving slowly with the barest wisp of words breaking through. "What was that?" Damien asked, kneeling down in front of him and staring intently at the suffering mortal.

Bloodshot green eyes creaked open, covered in glossy tears. "Let...me...go..." he whispered, a soft sob coming through.

"Stubborn little bitch," he chuckled amusedly. "And what? Let you back to your family? To your friends?..." he paused, seeing Kyle's face dropping in devastation at the mentions. "To _Kenny_?"

The name got Kyle moving, albeit ridiculously sluggishly. He raised his hand, grabbing Damien's wrist holding him up and growled. "He'll... _win_."

"Hm," he mused. "And if you give yourself to me, you _both_ win," he said cheekily. "Think about it, Little one," he cooed, cupping his chin and stroking his cheek. "You'll be healthy again. You'll be back to yourself. And you'll get to see McCormick once more. Isn't that what you _want_?" he pouted. "After all, you love him so much, don't you?" Kyle was silent, lip trembling. Damien was playing him when he couldn't think enough to fight back, he _knew_ that he should recognize this, but he just couldn't. He couldn't feel anything but a swirling pit of guilt and misery, his loneliness and the need for Kenny's brand of comfort overwhelming his stubbornness with ease. Damien continued, "You love him so much that you'd do anything for him. And you know what? If he was down here instead, he'd do the same for you in a heartbeat." Kyle gulped as he shrugged. "He'd do _anything_ to get back to you," he cooed, pushing soaked bangs off his forehead. "And if you _truly_ loved him, so would _you_."

Kyle began to quiver uncontrollably, clouded mind trying to piece together any semblance of himself against Damien's words. He was confused, his surroundings seeming surreal. He wondered rather vaguely if he'd just taken those damn sleeping pills that made him hallucinate again, that this was all just a tripped-out nightmare. Maybe he would wake up finally and see Kenny hovering over with his face worried as he tried to hold him down, tried to cool him off with a damp washcloth as he had in the past. Kyle's thoughts hit a roadblock, stuck with his fiancé's face and it alone; His beacon, the one thing he just couldn't forget regardless of whatever Damien was pulling over him. His mind was overrun, all he could think about was getting home, being with him, _saving him._ The word circulated around him, caught in the eye of the storm with destruction reigning on either side: _Kenny, Kenny, Ken-_

Kyle's body froze completely, his eyes glazing over and his jaw dropping slightly as his mind went blank, the storm dissipating all at once. Damien's face nearly split in half with his malicious smile. "I got you now," he whispered excitedly, grabbing Kyle's rigid arm and letting them both sink into the floor. As they fell through the blackened void, Damien pulled Kyle's lifeless body up against his own, throwing the man over his shoulder as he awaited the end of their journey. _'Gragor, Dad, it's time,'_ he thought, hearing their overlapping replies echo through his mind.

They finally exited through the void into a clearing with a large stone slab lied in the middle of ash and stone. Damien licked his lips, carrying Kyle towards it as his father and Gragor appeared out of their own portals beside him. They glanced at each other before following his lead towards the table. Satan looked at the redhead and winced at the state he was in, "Geez, you really let him get to the edge, didn't you?"

"And it was completely worth it," he chuckled darkly, coming up to the stone and slowly lying Kyle down atop of it, green eyes still blankly staring into nothingness.

Gragor raised his brow, "Is he dead?"

"No, his soul is destroyed for the time being," Damien smirked, holding out his palm and watching his dagger materialize within it. "He's nothing but a pretty little doll waiting for my touch," he mocked down at the frozen man. He grabbed Kyle's left hand, holding the tip of his dagger on his palm and slowly dragging it down into the flesh, hungrily gazing at the drops of rubies cresting through the wound. He savored every moment as he carved, a bloodied pentagram coming to fruition. He dropped Kyle's lifeless hand down, watching it limply land before turning to his own left palm, repeating the process with a gleaming smile.

"Wait, what ritual are you doing?" Satan raised his brow. "I thought this was a simple power exchange."

"It is...with a kick," he said innocently. "You'll see," he promised, finishing his handiwork and shoving the dagger into his pocket. He walked up to the front of the table, hovering over Kyle's head. "Gragor, pull him down a bit," he instructed. The monster nodded, snapping himself out of his awe and grabbing Kyle's leg, yanking him further down the slab. Damien grasped Kyle's arms, raising them above his head. He opened the boy's fingers, clasping his hands around Kyle's own, their pentagrams pushing into the other's clear skin.

Kyle's body jerked with the contact, eyes fluttering anxiously as he tried to come back to life. Damien licked over his lips. "Each of you, grab a side and a leg, he's going to go into convulsions," he said nonchalantly. They both did so, glancing at each other in bewilderment before turning their attention back to Damien. _"Perficere contractus,"_ he hissed, Kyle's body arching at his words, barely held down by the dumbfounded demons. " _Manifestarent eum sicut et ego_." The demon watched as their palms began to glow a deadly red as they remained melded against one another, nearly shaking in exhilaration. " _Sino eum fortitudinem meam, sub voluntatem meam...sicut mea pupus,"_ he finished, pushing down more firmly on Kyle's hands.

The redhead arched up entirely with a loud scream, his consciousness breaking back into his weary mind. His entire body felt as though set aflame, seeming as though needles were scraping down and prodding every single nerve. He tried thrashing, unable to and his brows knitted confusedly. He couldn't move. _Why couldn't he move?_ He cried out, a rush of nausea flooding over him as he tried in vain to throw himself about.

Damien released his hands, grabbing his hair to yank his head up and ripping off the man's tattered shirt. He placed his own maimed hand between his shoulder blades, pressing hard against the skin. Kyle's eyes widened in panic, his throat trying to close in on itself. He couldn't see, he couldn't hear, all he could do was _feel._

His entire body rippled with quakes as he fought for air, fought for an explanation. His stab wound was pounding furiously against his arm, the entirety feeling as though it were trying to sink into his flesh. His head thrashed in Damien's grip, fingers clawing at the air uselessly. It was as though he were thrown into a boiling spring with no warning, every bit of him on fire but unable to turn to ashes, regardless of how much he _wanted to_.

" _Kenny, Kenny, Kenny, Kenny,_ " he whispered fervently, a clumsy, terrified mantra for the lost soul. The name seemed almost foreign, his mind plagued with Kenny's face and angel wings, trying to bring him back into reality before a stronger onslaught of agony rode through him. He screamed again, voice echoing around the clearing as he fought for a stance.

"Strong little guy, jeez," Satan blinked, struggling to hold him down with Gragor.

"Well...he _is_ getting my power," Damien said slyly, grasping Kyle's flailing arms again and pinning him down against the slab. "Come on, Little one," he hissed. "Let me _in._ "

Kyle sobbed, unable to place a face or name to the voice. He couldn't hear it, but he could feel it in his bones, the reverberating sensation telling him just what it was being said. It was a voice that felt almost comforting, but at the same time had him wanting to curl in and cower. He couldn't figure it out for the life of him, continuing to cry and try so desperately to move.

"Let. Me. **In** ," Damien repeated, gritting his teeth and sinking his claws into Kyle's arms. He was resisting a little too well for the demon's tastes. His shoulders sunk in relief as Kyle let out a final, ear-piercing scream, chest and back arching up once more before he settled onto the slab, panting. His muscles twitched, his eyes closed as he continued to fight for air with a raspy throat.

The three surrounding him each slowly relinquished his limbs, watching him slumped against the table, shaking with stray tears still leaking down his face. "Did it work, My Lord?" Gragor asked.

"Give it a second," he waved him off dismissively, staring intently at the redhead. "His soul literally just went through Hell and back. It'll take him a moment to gather his bearings."

Satan sighed, looking the boy up and down before pausing. "Holy shit," he blinked, reaching up and grabbing a frail wrist of Kyle's, holding his hand up and unrolling his fingers. They all stared at an array of sharp, gleaming claws now prominently displayed as his fingernails. Damien stared at them a moment before breaking into a wide grin, reaching down to Kyle's head and tipping his chin up, forcing a thumb into the man's mouth and tearing his jaw open, eyes scanning frantically.

He let out a long, devious laugh. "Well, well, he has my fangs, too," he cooed, pulling Kyle's upper lip a bit to reveal a protruding canine. Kyle groaned and shifted a bit, Damien taking his fingers out of his mouth and the three hovering over him staring at him keenly. "Come on, Little one," Damien breathed anxiously, fingers drumming against the stone. "Wake up. Or you'll never see McCormick again," he added.

Kyle's jaw began to tremble at the notion, his eyes very begrudgingly trying to open. Gragor caught a colored gleam and blinked, "His eyes..." he murmured.

Kyle whimpered, his vision finally opening, lax against his weary face as he stared tiredly up above him. His irises shone a vivid ruby, looking far too bright and unnatural for such a worse-for-wear expression. " _Kenny?"_ he breathed out exhaustively.

Damien clapped his hands together in glee, "I told you I could break any mortal, Dad!"

Satan remained silent, staring at the victim in concern. Something about this situation just didn't seem _right_.

"Sit up, Little one," Damien demanded casually.

Kyle looked up at him, chest still heaving and narrowed his eyes. He gave a small sneer and slumped back down out of his tenseness. It was just putting too much pressure on his body at this point.

Damien raised his brow. "Hey. I said _sit up_ ," he ordered.

A few moments of silence passed before a weak 'fuck you' passed through the air. Damien stared at him in astonishment, blinking rapidly. Satan caught his son's bewildered expression and took a deep breath. "Damien? What is it?"

"He...he's not listening to me," he muttered, brows knitting together concernedly. "The spell was so supposed to make him my fucking puppet...what the **fuck**!" he exclaimed, shoving away from the table and running his fingers through his hair as he paced. "This doesn't make any sense. He was resistant but I still fucking broke his fucking soul!" he snarled. "He doesn't get to fucking _decide_ how the fucking spell works!"

"Maybe you didn't make the terms of the contract specific enough," Satan shrugged. "You know we've both done that..." he trailed off, watching his son pacing and cussing up a storm.

Kyle could barely understand their conversation, but found enough strength to sit himself back up on the sides of his legs on the slab. He put a hand against his temple, gently rubbing and watching Damien's mini-freak out with exhausted eyes. He narrowed his gaze a bit, trying to figure out just what had to jackass so worked up before flinching as something sharp bit into his skin. He made a small noise of discontent, bringing his hand down, his eyes taking a moment to adjust before they widened in complete panic. A pentagram. Claws. Blood.

An anger began to race through him atop the complete anxiety raising in his chest. Clarity began breaking through his fuzzy mind, a stark, blanching realization taking hold. "What did you _do_?" he whispered, looking at both his hands and trembling.

Damien stopped his pacing and they all turned to look at him. "Fulfilled our agreement, Little one," he said darkly. "You had a moment of weakness and I took advantage of it..." he walked over and leaned down in his face, giving a smug smirk. "So much for your little selfless martyr bullshit. You're just as much of a selfish pig as the rest of them," he taunted.

Kyle blinked before beginning to shake once again, his confused face melting into a rage-induced snarl. Damien's smirk dropped slowly, gaze focusing on the scratch over Kyle's eye. He reached forward to look closer and Kyle jerked away, his eyes beginning to glow. "Don't touch me, you fuck!" he screamed, pushing Damien back. The demon grunted as a large rush of power thrust from Kyle's hands sent him sprawling back onto the ground.

"Master Damien, are you all right?!" Gragor asked, hurrying over and helping him to his feet, Damien's eyes never breaking from Kyle's.

"I'm fine. He caught me off guard, that's all," he muttered, stepping away from him and back towards the redhead, who looked a mess of terrified and furious all in one go. "Something isn't right," he murmured, reaching down and grabbing the confused man's chin. Kyle whined, trying to break off before being shaken back into place. His red eyes raised and locked into Damien's, who stared at him carefully. "You stubborn little _fuck_ ," he finally said, chuckling humorlessly.

"What is it, Damien?" Satan said.

The demon pointed to Kyle's injured right eye, the milky overlay of his attack now colored jade, running crookedly through the ruby. "He resisted better than I thought," he muttered.

Kyle's body suddenly spiked with energy, grabbing Damien's hand and shoving it off of him, jumping back on the slab and landing on the edge precariously, He watched the three of them cautiously with a sharp glare. "You stay _away_ from me," he hissed.

Damien smirked, "If you don't learn how to get the gifts I so _generously_ gave you under control...you'll end up injuring yourself so badly you won't be able to help McCormick," he raised his brow as Kyle's stance slackened a bit. "And isn't that what you want? After all...you accepted the terms of the contract," he purred.

"I didn't accept jack shit!" he spat, hopping off the slab, his legs wobbling but pushing through it as he stalked up towards the noirette, shoving a dumbfounded Gragor out of his way as he did so. "You fucking _cheated_."

"Did I?" he asked amusedly.

Kyle sneered, "You fucking made me delusional! That's not accepting a fucking contract, that's being fucking confused! And I never _made_ a contract with you, you piece of shit!"

"You. Stabbed. First," he repeated, leaning down into his face. "Now, either you want to save your idiot or you don't. Either you let me train you or you get ripped apart while I get my powers back from you."

The redhead paused, looking away stubbornly and crossing his arms. "May as well start 'ripping' then," he scoffed.

He yelped as Damien grabbed his throat and yanked him closer in front of him. "I don't think you should be so casual, Little one," he said lowly. "The fate of a _lot_ of people is on you, so you should probably get your stubborn head out of your ass."

Kyle narrowed his eyes, "I said don't touch me!" he shouted, his eyes glowing once again. Damien could feel the power starting to percolate, a bit worried with how quickly the man was adjusting to it.

"Oh no you don't," he snarled, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming him down onto the ground, coming overtop of him and holding him steady. He grabbed Kyle's wrists, holding them on the small of his back as Kyle wiggled and cursed under his hold.

"Well, good job, Son," Satan rolled his eyes and slowly clapped. "You have an emotionally volatile mortal with demonic powers who isn't on your side. You pretty much made another Kenny," he rubbed his temple.

Damien glared, "Shut up, Pops. I'll figure this out," he bit his lip, having to put in way more effort than usual to keep Kyle down underneath him. Kyle continued to curse and snarl, rolling about as he tried to break from the demon's hold. The three others watched as rocks surrounding them began to tremor, looking at each other before back at the redhead.

"He's going to destroy all of us if we don't get him under control," Satan observed.

"Dammit, you little bitch," Damien hissed. "Calm _down!"_ he yelled, his left hand slamming into a small scar between Kyle's shoulder blades as he shoved him against the stone ground. The redhead suddenly fell still, eyes going dull and the rocks ceasing their trembling. The demon jerked as a sudden rush of power seemed to hit his body like a freight train, having to shake off his surprise. "What the fuck?" Damien murmured, looking at Kyle's face, seeing the blank expression and blinking.

Gragor cleared his throat, "Is...is he..."

"No, he's not dead," Damien muttered, getting to his feet off of him. His jaw dropped slightly as he looked at his hand, finding several strands of red, thick as wire, running from his pentagram to the spot on Kyle's back. "It was literal," he said blankly, staring at the connectors.

"What was literal?" Satan asked.

He glanced at him before wrapping his fingers through individual strings, tugging them experimentally. The three of them jerked back as another scream ripped through Kyle all of a sudden, Damien glancing to his back and his eyes widening. Streams of blood pulsed over his skin, running down onto the ash beneath him. The demon bent closer towards his still form, a sickening grin creeping up his face at the sight of slightly torn skin. "Well well well..." he licked his lips. "I have myself a puppet after all," he chuckled, ripping the strands back violently. They watched the strings shredding through his flesh like twine breaking through butcher paper, jagged edges fraying outwards from the scar on his back as Kyle was torn onto his feet. Strands broke through his jeans, determined to get into Damien's hands, the fabric falling loosely on his hips.

The redhead's throat convulsed in sobs, looking up at the sky and begging for it to just _stop_. He couldn't move, he couldn't do anything but feel whatever horrific thing Damien was doing to his body. He could just feel the tears, the searing heat surrounding them assaulting exposed nerves and muscle. His eyes managed to flicker down towards his arm and he whimpered, pupils shrinking at the sight of veins spilling out tautly from his blood-soaked arm back into Damien's hand.

Damien looked over the damage, chest twisting excitedly at the gory disaster laid out before him. Kyle's flesh was torn asunder in straight lines, a blueprint of his circulatory system seeming to come to life before his very eyes. He tugged a vein wrapped around his index finger, watching Kyle's arm jerk back towards him as he let out a cut cry. He grinned, placing his palms together and managing to grasp some strings in his right hand, feeling them connect to his own body and straightening them all out. He began slowly maneuvering each finger, watching Kyle's arms and legs moving without his blessing as he worked him back towards the group.

"Stop!" Kyle begged, chest heaving as Damien pulled him about. The demon chuckled, managing to turn Kyle around, watching with interest as the veins tore through new areas of flesh to stay untangled for him. Kyle's red eyes were swimming with tears, with fury, and with such _terror_. Damien shuddered at the sight, not expecting something quite so fulfilling from so simple a spell. He yanked Kyle up towards him, staring the captured redhead down almost nonchalantly.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" he murmured to his counterparts, eyes drifting to Kyle's infected wound and the lode tearing through it.

Kyle's teeth gritted, trying desperately to break from his hold but unable to move anything below his neck. "You sick fuck!" he screeched, yelping as Damien let the veins go slack, the man falling to his knees, supported only by his arms torn upwards by the wrists at the hand of his puppeteer. He stared at the ground, panting with tears dripping down his nose onto the stone beneath him. His panic was rising, feeling himself in such a lost state he nearly didn't know how to keep himself from having a complete and utter breakdown. This was all happening too fast. He couldn't keep up, still just too tired and in too much pain to be able to fight back.

"How does this help us win against Kenny, Damien?" Satan questioned, cringing at the complete mess at their feet, choosing to turn his focus onto the nest of sweaty, matted curls. "If you're busy doing this, you won't be able to fight."

Damien licked over his lips, "Actually...I will," he said. "Just not in _my_ body," he grinned, feeling the power pulsing between himself and the poor redhead below. He kneeled down in front of Kyle, pulling his torso towards himself and placing their faces right in front of each other, Kyle's shallow breaths bouncing off his face in short, hot pulses. "Look at us," he purred, holding up a vein lightly in front of his eyes and watching his shoulder raise. "We're connected, Little one. Can you feel _my_ power going through _you_?"

Kyle's eyes flittered around in a frenzy, wondering if that _was_ what he felt, if the influx of exhausting energy was from the monster in front of him. "You fuck," he whimpered, sobbing out as Damien slackened the strands once more, falling forward and landing against his chest. He groaned, trying to pull himself off but unable to do so. He growled as a hand wrapped in his curls, feeling his blood dripping onto his skull as Damien watched him with half-lidded eyes.

He raised his vision from his captive and glanced towards a large stone in the distance, tonguing over his lips. He stole another look at the panting man against him and smirked, an idea flittering through his sharp mind. _'Move it_ ,' he thought.

Kyle's veins suddenly led them both along, sitting the man back up and turning his head to lock on the boulder. Kyle began to tremor, his eyes glowing that deadly, burning ember. Damien watched with a grin as the man raised his hand and bent his clawed fingers in, sneering as the stone picked up off the ground. His arm swiped to the side, the lot of them watching as it sailed across the barren land, slamming down into the ground with a thunderous crack.

The redhead's eyes fluttered and he fell limp again, once more landing against Damien and his throat wheezing. This was bad. Kyle gulped, wondering what the hell had just happened. He'd blacked out completely, only hearing Damien telling him what to do. This was so fucking _bad._

Damien looked up at his father and grinned. "I got myself a nice little toy," he cooed, placing his hand back in Kyle's hair, twisting a curl around his finger.

"Master Damien, he's losing a _lot_ of blood," Gragor observed, the pool beneath the redhead seeming as though it were enough to splash around in.

He shrugged, "But he can't die from it. Demons can't kill other demons," he reminded him.

Kyle's eyes flickered up and he narrowed his brow. "I'm not...a demon," he hissed weakly.

Damien placed a finger under his chin and laughed maliciously. "Those red eyes and fangs say otherwise," he purred. "Face it, Little one. You're on _my_ side now."

"Never," he spat, shaking his head out of Damien's hold. The demon watched in surprise as his entire body began to quake, his arms twitching as the rubies staring into his own began to light up. Kyle snarled and Damien flinched as his veins broke from his fingers, flying from his hands and coiling back into Kyle's mutilated form. The redhead tried to back up from the group before his body gave way, collapsing onto the ground in a curled heap. The three others watched curiously as his skin stitched itself back together, leaving raw pink marks in their wake.

"He got your healing power as well," Satan muttered in slight relief, not really willing to see Kyle continuing to bleed out all over the place. He shook his head to himself as he watched Kyle's quaking form. He glanced down at his son as he got to his feet. "Kenny's going to kill you," he rubbed his forehead tiredly, seeing nothing but a mess coming from this.

Damien scoffed, "I'm more concerned about the fact that he just broke my hold, Pops. McCormick is the _least_ of my problems. I have him," he gestured to the shivering man. "He'll be plenty to take that idiot down."

"No," a meek voice broke through. They looked down to see Kyle struggling back onto his knees, eyes half-lidded in exhausting and his shoulders heaving. "I'm not helping you," he whispered, closing his eyes and coughing, trying to beat down the burning rush coursing through his body. "Kenny _will_ kill you," he promised. "And I'll be watching it happen."

Damien crossed his arms and smirked down at him, "You just wait, Little one. I can't kill you, but I _can_ keep the blood loss up," he quirked his brow. "And you won't be able to do _anything_ but what I control you to do."

He huffed out a small, snarky laugh, raising blood red eyes to meet Damien's, the green of his scratch glimmering lightly. "If I have your powers, then I'll fight you off," he vowed. "I'll find a way to get rid of you myself if I have to. You're going to _regret_ doing this to me," he sneered.

Damien's chest flittered excitedly, watching the wounded man below him with a sharp gaze. He couldn't deny his surprise, how Kyle had managed to break from him so quickly was something he never expected. He couldn't help but wonder just what else the redhead could accomplish. So much for all mortals doing nothing but boring him. This one was about to make things _very_ interesting. He leaned down towards him, blowing his bangs out of his face and grinning, fangs gleaming in Kyle's eye. "I look forward to it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Translations:** _
> 
> _**Perficere contractus - Complete contract** _
> 
> _**Manifestarent eum sicut et ego - Make him as I am** _
> 
> _**Sino eum fortitudinem meam, sub voluntatem meam - Allow him my strength, but under me** _
> 
> _**...sicut mea pupus - ...As my puppet** _
> 
> _**That's right, we're back to the Latin like in 'Lilith' ahahahahaha I apparently hate myself.** _
> 
> _**Thanks for reading!** _


	15. The Shadow of Death

**"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." -** _**Deuteronomy 31:6** _

"Kenneth, slow down!"

He couldn't. There was nothing that could possibly get him to calm his pace in the slightest as he soared above Paradise, wings flapping furiously. His shoulder muscles were aching from the strain, his lower back trying to lock as he used his legs to propel himself even faster through the air. His mind was overrun with nothing but unbridled fear, knowing well enough the kind of news that he could be flying towards.

Raphael and Gabriel followed behind him, trying desperately to keep up with the frantic man. Raphael turned to Gabriel, brows furrowed worriedly. "What happened? I mean...is Kyle..." he trailed off, looking back to Kenny and feeling his heart lurch.

Gabriel bit his lip, taking a deep, shuddery breath. "I don't know. But God sounded awfully concerned for it to be anything better than that."

"Poor Kenneth," he murmured, shaking his head as he watched the blonde begin dropping from the sky to land in front of God's domain. They followed his descent, landing hard on the towering staircase and beginning to run up past the rows of dumbfounded guards. Kenny leapt over steps, using his wings to give him the extra push upwards. His heart was pounding and his entire body was shaking. He was so fucking _scared_. But he had to know, and he had to know _now_. Raphael and Gabriel tried to keep up with him, nearly stumbling up steps as they trailed behind him. They came to the large hall and Kenny turned sharply, sprinting to the massive door past a guard, shoving him out of the way and pushing it open himself. The other two ran in behind him as Kenny's eyes scanned the crowd.

God, Jesus, and the remainder of the archangels stood at the back of the room, looking at the blonde with utterly pitiable and worried expressions. His heart dropped, his world seemed to shatter underneath his feet. "No... _no..._ " he whispered, body quaking.

"He's not dead, Kenny," Jesus assured him quietly, coming up and lightly touching his arm. He gulped at the utter tenseness of his muscles, how rigid every bone in his body seemed to be as he gently led him towards the group. Kenny raised his brow as they came to a clear vision of Hell, a portal of red splashing against the pure, starch background of their congregation.

He narrowed his eyes, bending down slightly as Kyle's voice caught his attention, his heart fluttering in relief at the sound. _"Get your fucking hands off me!"_ he screamed. The blonde watched the redhead closely, trying to fight his way out of Damien's grip.

His jaw dropped slowly as he immediately picked up a tensed stance that was more taut than Kyle had ever exerted, something feeling just completely _off_. "What...what's wrong with-" he tried before Kyle's head whipped around in Damien's struggling hold and the blonde let out a long-winded cry of despair. His sharp gaze caught the gleaming red bursting through those green eyes that were so engrained in his mind, the long fangs protruding as Kyle screamed and fought against the deadly grip around his chest and wrists. "WHAT DID HE DO?!" he screeched in complete panic.

God bit His lip and sighed, "He infected him, Kenneth."

"With what?!" he demanded, tearing at his hear, his eyes welling with horrified tears at Kyle's eyes beginning to glow.

"His power," He answered quietly. "Kyle unwittingly went into a contract with him...and now Damien's blood is taking over his own."

Kenny began nearly hyperventilating, watching his fiancé in terror. _"Godfuckingdammit, I said let go!"_ Kyle ordered curtly, thrusting around as Damien drug him around. They all watched as Gragor came to try to help Damien contain him, Kyle whipping his head around and growling. The monster went flying back, crashing into the ground.

" _Don't touch him, Gragor,"_ Damien hissed. _"If you can't beat me, you can't beat him either."_ The demon looked down at the feisty man in his grip and snarled. _"Break out this time, you little fuck,"_ he spat, slamming his hand firmly onto Kyle's back and ripping the veins back out once again. Kyle's agonized scream echoed throughout the room, coincided only by Kenny beginning to dry heave as he watched Kyle being torn apart from the inside out.

"Kenny, don't look," Jesus urged, trying to grab him and rip him away from the vision. Kenny pushed him off, unable to tear his eyes from the show before him.

"What is he doing?" he whimpered, watching Kyle choking on sobs as his limbs began stiffly moving, the look on his face easily screaming to Kenny how hard he was fighting not to let them.

God sighed again, "Damien made him a puppet, Kenneth. To fight you and win the war." He glanced up to see Kenny's devastated face, shaking His head to Himself. "Kenneth, I'm so sorry."

"How do I fix it?" he looked down at Him for a moment with glistening eyes before turning them back up towards Kyle. "How do I get it out of him?!"

Michael approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You don't," he said softly. "Demons... _stay_ demons. We can't purify them. We can't do anything with them except either...try to reason with them...or..." he cleared his throat, Kenny's eyes locking into his own.

"Or what?" he whispered.

"We destroy them," he winced, watching Kenny's entire being seem to collapse at the notion.

God placed a paw on Kenny's arm, "But, that may not have to be Kyle's case," He quickly intervened, shooting Michael a scolding look before turning back to the distraught archangel. "He broke out of Damien's puppetry once already, perhaps he can find the way to block him out completely."

"There has to be **some** way to make him normal again!" Kenny protested, his voice cracking as Kyle was led through Hell by Damien's hand, the demon looking far too pleased with himself.

"It'd kill him," Jesus said softly. "The power won't take long to spread to every part of him. By then it'll be so deeply infused that trying to take it out would destroy him completely."

Kenny sobbed brokenly, slamming a hand over his mouth and trying beyond all hope to gain some composure. This just wasn't _possible._ He watched Kyle's frail form weakly contorting to Damien's whim, so out of the realm of what Kenny _ever_ thought he would see from the man. "So...he's not Kyle anymore?" he asked meekly, looking at all of them frantically for an answer.

"He is, he is," God assured him soothingly. "He resisted enough that Damien doesn't have complete reign over him. Kenneth, he's in the best state that he could be in this situat-."

"LOOK AT HIM!" he interrupted with a furious scream, gesturing to the vision. "You call that the _best_ that he could be?! He's bleeding and his eyes are fucking _red_ and...and..." he froze up, trembling as every bit of information seemed to collapse on top of him all at once. "Damien's ripping him apart," he whispered emptily.

" _Dad,_ " Damien's voice broke through again. _"Go ahead and enchant the chains. Gragor, go help,"_ he directed. Satan just sighed, shaking his head and sinking through the ground with Gragor not far behind. Damien walked up behind the paralyzed redhead, leaning over his gushing shoulder and next to his ear. _"Isn't it nice, Little one?"_ he taunted. Kyle merely looked over at him and panted, beyond exhausted and in too much pain to try to fight off the hold.

" _What?"_ he hissed.

He ruffled Kyle's hair a bit and Kenny snarled in fury, seeing nothing but red around the demon and wanting nothing short of being able to jump through the vision and strangle the fucker with his bare hands. " _Being something so much better than you were,"_ he purred. _"Look at how you pushed Gragor off with just a_ _ **look**_ _,"_ he smirked.

Kyle growled, nothing but fury to match Kenny's flashing through his stare, _"Yeah. And just think of what I could do to_ _ **you**_ _."_

"See?" Jesus winced, gesturing at the vision awkwardly for Kenny. "He's still in there. He's _still_ Kyle...just..."

"A monster," Uriel muttered.

Kenny's head snapped over to him and they all watched in astonishment as a bright, white light flashed in front of the elder blonde, sending him flying back onto his wings. He sat up and stared at Kenny in terror as he started stalking closer to him. "He's. _Not_. A monster," he enunciated through clenched teeth, blue eyes gleaming with a brighter hue than ever before, as though mirrors themselves were approaching on a mission for his head. Uriel stumbled onto his feet, blinking rapidly at the infuriated angel, finding himself caught in the transparent gaze.

"Kenneth!" Raphael rushed over and grabbed his arm. Kenny looked at him, the glaze dissolving into his usual ice-coated stare.

He looked between him and Uriel, cocking his brow and taking a surprised, sharp intake of air. "H-how'd I do that?"

Raphael gripped his arm tighter, holding it up between their faces and staring at his hand in deep thought. "You're not shaking anymore," he noted.

"Finally," Michael sighed, rubbing his temple tiredly.

"Really?" Kenny scowled at the angel. "You _really_ think that's what's important right now?!" he demanded, walking back over and gesturing wildly to Kyle and Damien as they transcended through a portal. "My fucking fiancé is the Anti-christ 2.0 and you think _my_ powers are the concern here?!"

He sighed again and nodded solemnly. "Kenneth, I know how hard this must be. But...yes. Your powers _are_ the concern. Kyle's using _his_ powers already. He's going to get strong and fast. And if Damien can manage to keep a hold on him..." he looked down and shook his head.

"What?" he narrowed his eyes.

"He's going to be what kills you," Gabriel said quietly. "Damien knows you won't hurt him. So he'll send Kyle out to destroy you, whether or not he even knows it's happening."

Kenny stopped in his tracks, looking between the vision and the lot in front of him. "No," he shook his head and gulped. "No, Ky's too strong for Damien to-"

"Look at him, Kenneth," Michael demanded, grabbing the back of his neck and whirling him back to stare at the vision. "Look at how Damien's hold is. He's controlling him from the inside, and Kyle _knows_ what's happening but is too weak to stop it."

Kenny bit his lip watching as parts of Kyle's skin continued to tear, tears dripping down the redhead's face as he was forced to walk himself into a tiny, dark room. _"Come now, Little one, you're back home,"_ Damien smirked, turning him around to face himself, watching the lodes tearing through the muscles of his arms and hips to stay untangled in his hands. _"Get on your knees_ ," he said sharply, watching in glee as Kyle's eyes went blank and he fell to the ground as instructed. Kyle shook himself out of his stupor, wavering around dizzily. _"Now isn't this just_ _ **fun**_ _?"_ Damien purred. _"Let's see..._ " he looked up thoughtfully. _"Arms behind your back, and don't move until I say to,_ " he ordered. Kyle's arms automatically flew back behind him, staring at the demon blankly. _"Gragor, go ahead,_ " he nodded him on with a sly grin, unable to take his eyes off his prey.

"Fuck," Kenny whispered defeatedly. "He...Kyle doesn't take orders...he...he can't...FUCK!" he finally broke, grabbing his hair again and shaking his head frantically. "This can't happen. This _can't happen!_ "

Raphael came up slowly and put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it genially. "Kenneth...maybe he can fight Damien off," he said softly. "Maybe...maybe Kyle will be the first mortal to completely best the devil," he smiled as reassuringly as he could muster despite the overwhelming doubt echoing about the room. "But until then, Michael's right. But you aren't going to be fighting Kyle," he promised him.

He looked at him and sniffled, wiping his eyes, "What if he sends him after me?" he asked meekly. "I can't hurt Kyle. I just _can't_."

"We'll find a way to get around him and hit Damien," God said. "We're going to have enough casualties in this war. We'll do our best to make sure Kyle or you are not among them. You boys don't deserve this."

Kenny's eyes flickered dully up to Kyle who was being chained against the wall, still staring straight through Damien waiting for his word. He bit his lip and shook his head. "No, we don't," he agreed. "Especially not him..." he narrowed his eyes as Damien waved Gragor back when he finished.

" _All right, Little one,"_ he said nonchalantly.

Kyle stumbled on his knees, wincing at the new tears in his skin before narrowing his eyes and looking behind him, his teeth baring as he found his wrists ensnared. _"The fuck are you doing?!"_ he demanded.

Damien chuckled, _"Experimenting."_ He walked up slowly towards the redhead, unwinding veins from his fingers and dropping them to the ground as Kyle watched concernedly. Damien tugged on a few experimentally, getting whimpers out of the trapped man before nodding approvingly. He took two connected to Kyle's shoulders, his eyes glowing as he looked at the ceiling. Kyle blinked before screeching through his teeth as the veins went flying up, hooking through stone and hiking his body up straight on his knees. Kyle started choking in shock, eyes clenched in robust pain with Damien grinning hungrily at the helpless soul beneath him. He watched as the remainder of Kyle's veins swept back into his body, the redhead too distracted to heal his wounds. " _Well look at that,"_ he purred as Kyle shifted uncomfortably with a groan. _"I get to pick and choose what I do with you. Free will was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?"_ he taunted.

Kyle snarled through his tears, eyes beaming with power. Damien, Satan, and Gragor jolted as a loud crash echoed through the room, looking to see the door torn off and on the ground. _"Pretty sure that was aiming for you, Damien,"_ Satan blinked.

" _Well, I guess it's a good thing that he's such a weak little thing, isn't it?"_ he pouted before breaking into another deliciously famished smirk, kneeling down in front of the man and chuckling. _"The door wasn't enchanted with power, but those chains are,"_ he said casually, reaching back and jostling Kyle's captured wrists. _"You're stuck until you have some control, Little one. Or until I allow you to have some strength, at least,"_ he shrugged.

Kyle growled ferociously. _"I'll kill you,"_ he promised in a rasped tone. _"I'll have plenty enough time t-to recover and...and rip your f-fucking head off."_

Damien laughed, brushing curls out of his eyes and flicking his forehead. " _Oh? Well I can't risk that, can I?"_ he mocked. _"Guess I'll have to make this harder for you to get your strength back."_ Kyle blinked questionably before Damien's claws dug into his chest and he screamed, the points tearing through his skin down to his opposite hip. Kyle gasped, choking for air as more blood poured out of him, rushing down his tattered jeans and pooling underneath him. Damien leaned forward, cupping his chin and forcing his struggling form to stare back at him. _"Get the strength to heal yourself and you might have a chance. Good luck, Little one. I'll see you then,"_ he threw his head back, his shoulder's strings slicing through muscle as Kyle sobbed dryly, unable to produce a single tear out of complete exhaustion. The three remaining stepped over the broken door, Satan sparing him one last glance and sighing before following the others, leaving the poor mortal to practically drown in his own life force.

Kenny stared at the claw marks, his legs wobbling and his stomach curling nauseatingly. "He's going to kill him," he whispered hollowly. "And I can't save him."

God shook His head, "Damien can't kill him. Old pact forged when Satan took the realms of Hell," He shrugged. "Demons cannot slay one another. They're too driven by hatred and greed and they were losing far too many to keep the order flowing smoothly. So he set an enchantment upon the realm...Unfortunately, that pact didn't exclude pain," He said sympathetically, looking from Kyle to the blonde. "He needs you to be strong," He reminded him. "I know you're sick of hearing this, Kenneth...but now more than _ever_ Kyle needs you to work through your powers. Because if you don't...you may find yourself facing him on the battlefield."

"Both of you are going to have to work towards getting stronger," Jesus added. "For different reasons, but the same goal: To take Damien down. You know he's going to be working for it, Kenny."

He nodded, "I know. Kyle won't let that pussy son of a bitch keep a hold on him...he's too stubborn," he laughed dryly, forcing down his imminent sobs. "He won't listen to _me_ telling him what to do so I guarantee Damien doesn't have a prayer..." he sighed, running his fingers through his hair and stealing another glance at his struggling fiancé. He turned away once more, unable to watch the redhead in such a state and shaking, digging his fingers into his arms. "We'll kill Damien," Kenny promised. "Either me or Kyle will get to him...I just don't know which one of us," he said before pausing. "But I hope it's Kyle. He has more of a reason to hate him than any of us ever will," he finished, quickly turning on his heel and walking out of the congregation, slamming the door behind him. The remainder looked after him, hearing Kyle choking on blood and sighing together, knowing that the situation was now almost spiraling out of everybody's control.

Kenny found himself walking blankly into the open air, wandering almost drunkenly towards the edge of the steps of God's home, taking a shuddery breath as he looked at Paradise sprawled out below him. He felt the sting of tears pushing through his eyes, unable to get the sound of Kyle's agony from ringing in his throbbing head. This was all too much, too much for the both of them to have to be going through. He knew he'd somehow regret taking this position, but he never thought it'd be something that would cost them so dearly. Guilt and anger settled on his twisted stomach, eyes fading into a glassy nothingness and a warmth pushing through his veins. _"I'll get you out, Ky,"_ he promised. _"Demon or not, I'll get you home."_


	16. Prodding the Fire

**Like a muddied spring or a polluted fountain is a righteous man who gives way before the wicked. -** _**Proverbs 25:26** _

He didn't even know how it was possible, by all accounts it didn't make a damn bit of sense. However, he couldn't keep his thoughts straight enough to make any sort of logic take shape of his predicament. All he knew was that blood was still occasionally flowing and his body was falling into insurmountable amounts of pain time and again. He croaked out a whimper of pain as he tried shifting his weight on his knees, pins and needles adding onto the already torrential amount of agony he was being dealt with.

His head lolled back and he panted, staring up his twisted veins leading to the ceiling and swallowing a dry lump in his throat. Kyle's eyes clenched shut and he took in a sharp breath through his teeth as his shoulders began trembling yet again. He couldn't get his body to calm down. Every bit of him felt simultaneously alive and yet wanting to do nothing more than collapse into itself and cease his existence. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what side he was even rooting for anymore.

Damien's claw marks began to throb and he groaned, turning his head back down and looking as the wound, shaking in disgust. Dark, clotted lines marred his pale, malnourished flesh. They were raised, slimy with the remains of Kyle's shifting breaking them open once again and letting fresh blood continue to spill. Kyle bit his lip, tiredly wondering how the hell he could even _have_ so much blood to lose. His entire body was completely covered in the sticky substance, nearly every inch of him marked by Damien's hand and drawing a disturbing blueprint of his victimized form.

He yelped, jerking with a hiss as a new feeling emerged from the darkness. His shoulder blades shredded further as he slunk towards the ground, panting hoarsely, unwarranted tears falling down his cheeks. The redhead couldn't pay the slightest bit of attention to his new wounds, all too focused on whatever was wracking through his form. His body was _burning_. It felt as though something inside of his blood had just came alive and was trying to claw its way out through his skin. Little pinpricks turned into what felt like a knife carving him from the inside out and he let out a long-winded sob.

He tried freeing his wrists from behind him, grunting and begging in hushed whispers for them to break out. "Come on," he pleaded, the chains digging angrily against his congealed wounds. They rattled incessantly, not giving him any leeway. He was so _tired_. He hadn't slept in weeks aside from occasionally falling unconscious from Damien's damn poisoning. A sick part of him wanted to just deal with the agony of letting his back muscles rip apart to get enough slack to lie down, but he was in _enough_ pain, there was no telling how much it would take to send him over the damn edge.

Another burning sensation rocked through to his core and he started choking on air, red eyes bulging as he broke into a cold sweat, his entire being in such a contradictory state he nearly lost all sense. Black edged his vision, sweat trying to fall and obscure his eyes as it dripped through thick cinnamon lashes. He threw his head back again, throat bobbing and jaw trembling as he tried to regain some semblance of composure. It seemed far out of the question, however as the caustic pain continued to wither his hope down to a nub. _"Why...Why..."_ he whispered to himself, tears redirecting to sliding down his temples. He couldn't keep doing this, he couldn't keep doing _nothing_. But he couldn't heal himself and he just couldn't understand it. He'd done it automatically when Damien had first ripped him apart, why couldn't he do it _now_ when he needed it more than ever?!

He gasped as his entire body fell into a violent spasm with another blistering attack, sending him falling back on his ass. His veins tore through his skin but he couldn't be bothered to care as he tumbled onto his bound wrists, watching his lodes slicing through his injured chest like wire. He sobbed, shaking at the pressure his body was trying to exert, unable to place the source of the turmoil. _"Kenny, help,"_ he begged, lips moving vaguely as the words passed through the air like traveling through threadbare blades of grass. His frazzled mind just couldn't understand what was happening, why his blonde hero couldn't just swoop down and get him out of here. God _had_ to have some kind of power to save him, right? Why the fuck weren't they using it?! He leaned his head back against the ground, eyes dully flickering down to the new streams of red pulsing out of his chest and down his torso onto the ground.

His legs curled up a bit, every inch of him screaming to just stop and shut down. But he couldn't. Not for a lack of trying, attempting time and again to let himself slip into an unconscious stupor, to become blissfully unaware of what was assaulting him. But he just _couldn't_. Some _thing_ was inside of him, something was trying to wake up and make him fall prey to whatever _it_ wanted. It was stirring, seeping into the marrow of his bones, staining him from the inside out as he squirmed. _"Stop, stop, stop, stop,"_ he tried, his head shaking from side to side frantically as his body arched up off the ground in spastic bouts against his will.

"Only you can make it stop, Little one." Kyle froze for but a moment, trying to get angry, to rouse his fury that was lingering beneath the surface, but the feeling was easily overpowered by the searing heat rushing through his appendages. Damien came over, standing overtop of him and smirking at his lithe form bouncing along. "Come now," he cooed. "You can't 'rip off my fucking head' if you're here just flopping on the ground."

He coughed, looking up to stare his captor in the face and growling before letting his head fall back again in exhaustion. He just couldn't keep this up. Kyle knew well enough he was reaching his limits and something inside of him was going very _very_ wrong.

Damien knelt down beside him, tugging a vein with genial fingers and watching him arching up to his whim, licking over his fangs with each cry. Something about the show lied out before him was just _enticing_. He wanted to do nothing more than watch the stubborn little redhead writhing in agony, contorting as he dictated. A layer of sweat glistened over his stained skin, shimmering in the light beaming through the broken door, shining in Damien's eye. He ran his thumb over a claw mark, following the jarring skin down to his hip, scraping his claw lightly over the wound and picking it apart piece by piece to watch new blood spill over Kyle's slender waist. "The sooner you heal, the sooner you can make progress on your little mission," he taunted.

"Get... _out_ ," Kyle demanded, shivering with nausea at the feeling of Damien's fingers mindlessly stroking his hip.

"Little one it's been almost two days," he smirked, ignoring the little redhead's order. Kyle's face dropped. It couldn't have been _that_ long. He wasn't _nearly_ weak enough for that long to have passed, it just wasn't conceivable. Damien could see the rusted gears whirring in the redhead's foggy mind and snorted. "You're a demon, Little one. You're not in Kansas anymore," he turned Kyle's head towards himself, unable to resist indulging in a sickening smile at the sight of the man's complete panic working its way through his expression. He shrugged casually, "But isn't that _nice_? So strong now, even though you don't show it very well..." he reached down under Kyle's neck, pulling him back to sit up and watching his face contort as his veins twisted back into place. "I think my giving you powers was a _gift_ , don't you agree?"

Kyle spat weakly at him, missing all but a few droplets, the rest falling onto his chin and chest. He rolled his eyes at himself, heaving a heavy, raspy breath. "Get it out," he whispered.

He scoffed, "You think I can take it back now? Can't you feel it, Little one? Can you feel it moving inside you?" he smiled, fangs gleaming malevolently. "Tell me, does it _burn_?" he drawled, the words dripping off of his tongue and splashing onto Kyle like acid.

Kyle narrowed his brow, blinking rapidly as he tried to wake his blurred vision back into a conscious state. "How-"

"Because until you get it under control, it's going to hurt," he hissed. "You think it's bad now? It's only going to get worse. It'll eat you from the inside out, Little one," he warned.

Kyle gulped, scattered mind trying to piece together some sense of it all. Was Damien telling the truth or just trying to get him to bend to his side? He couldn't actually be _concerned_ for Kyle's well-being...but the sooner he got better the sooner Damien would have the toy he so desperately craved. Kyle groaned, trying to move forward and lash out, forgetting his chained wrists and jerking back with a cut shout. Damien rolled his eyes, shaking the man's head and grabbing his attention again. "Calm down."

"Calm down?!" he repeated, nearly winded from those words alone, but his enmity couldn't be quelled, not that easily. "You _fuck_ ," he spat. "You...you fucking kidnap me and...and cut the shit out of me and make me like you and you want me to calm down?!" he screeched, decibels dominating the stress he was putting on himself and his wounds. He flinched at another round of burning and groaned, eyes glazing over weakly as he stayed up by Damien's hold. "Kenny won't let this slide," he whispered.

"And what do you think he can do?" he raised his brow. "Little one, you're stuck like this regardless of what that fool does."

Kyle took a shuddery breath, the crushing reality of his words soaking into his bone. "But he'll kill you," he promised. "He'll see what you did and lose his fucking mind."

He snickered, "That's what I'm counting on, Little one." He stroked his thumb along his quivering jawline, feeling a heavy gulp working its way down a slender throat. "He loses his mind, gets distracted by what I've done to his poor little bitch and I take off _his_ head," he bit.

The threat got Kyle reeling, energy sparking for a moment as he snapped his head down and dug his fangs deep into Damien's wrist. The demon hissed as the canines tore through his skin, digging into his muscle. Kyle was on the brink of madness with his thunderous anger, a true, palpable fear of Damien's words becoming reality. He knew Kenny getting distracted was a possibility, but he would be far out of his mind to let Damien think that he would let him _touch_ the blonde. He snarled, shaking Damien's arm about with as much strength as he could muster.

A sudden fist slamming into his eye sent him flying back, jaw unhinging with the contact immediately. He hit the wall and panted, opening his vision to find Damien staring at him in a way that made his entire body bristle with uneasiness. It was almost empty; Garnets echoing hollowly into his skin as though he were taking him apart piece by piece with sight alone.

Damien glanced down to his wounded arm, looking back up and finding his blood pouring from Kyle's mouth, a hardened, yet panicked lacquer coating his red and green stare, injured eye wincing but trying to remain alert. The demon shuddered at the sight before clearing his throat, nonchalantly raising his brow. "Well. Didn't think you had it in you, Little one," he said calmly. "Didn't know you'd need muzzled," he scowled a bit, eyes illuminating. Kyle found himself caught in his trance before yelping in panic as something flew into his mouth and wrapped around his head. He took frantic breaths through his nose, looking back at the eerily calm noirette. Damien reached forward, grabbing him around the throat and tugging him up towards his face, scanning the man's form as he tried to contain his quivering and keep himself subdued. "I bite harder," he warned simply before throwing him back against the wall, watching satisfactorily as wounds split back open and Kyle curled into himself, long-winded cries sneaking from behind his gag.

He got to his feet, licking his lips at the distressed redhead before shaking himself out of his stupor. "Heal yourself and you'll be let out of the chains for awhile," he murmured, watching his defeated eyes raise and lower again, his burning body just unable to handle everything piling on him at once. Damien turned on his heel, making his way out of the doorway and into the flames of Hell once again. He raised his arm, staring at Kyle's fang marks dug deep into his skin and taking a deep breath.

He stole another glance at the doorway before Gragor's voice popped up from his position leaning beside the door. "Anything, Master Damien?"

He looked at him and smirked a bit. "He's going to fit in with the other demons just fine," he said airily, gaze finding its way back to the wound and his lips curling up higher. "He's definitely got the fire."


	17. Turn the Other Cheek

**Teach me, and I will be silent; And show me how I have erred. -** _**Job 6:24** _

Walking through Paradise at what they considered 'nighttime' was a habit that Raphael had had to pick up over the years. Dealing with duties and the bickering of the angel's inner circles was just overly frustrating, and losing it at one another did nothing but bring about more misery. The current situation they had found themselves in was only making matters worse, but he supposed that that was to be expected. He glanced up at the sky stained lilac and rose, melting down into the clouds like watercolor dripping down canvas. Golden-bellied clouds roamed above, sailing swiftly through the still tide on their own solitary voyages. He let out a long breath through his nose, unable to appreciate just what it was he was seeing. Too much was going on, there was just too much chaos that'd infested his home in the last two months.

Angels were in a panic, soldiers were doing their best to train themselves. God and Jesus were trying their best to keep the peace, but everyone knew well enough that even they didn't have enough encouraging words to make everything seem hopeful once again. Michael was becoming overtly irritable, shadows of times long since passed constantly echoing in his brown eyes. Gabriel was consistently on the fence, trying to hold up spirits and simultaneously wanting to strangle anyone who didn't follow protocol to get the job done. Selaphiel, Jegudiel, and Barachiel were off trying to get themselves back to the fighting peaks that they'd held once before. Raphael shook his head, wondering just if any of them were actually going to be able to get back to how they were all those eons ago. Uriel was avoiding them more often than not, sticking to his own training while the others typically rested. Raphael frowned, wondering just what could be done to get Uriel back to how he was supposed to be with the lot of them.

But then there was Kenny. Poor, _poor_ Kenny. He'd been avoiding them all as well, but he at least had his reasons. Raphael had seen him walking around, staring ahead of himself but not seeing anything. There was pain etched on his face, blue eyes glittering between helplessness and hope that he could never seem to catch and place at the forefront for long. God had instructed them to leave him be for a good few days, that none of them could possibly understand just what it was the blonde was going through, and pushing him might lead to disaster were they not careful.

He hopped over a bench, crossing his arms and letting his eyes lazily focus on the clouds beneath his feet. This entire scenario was spiraling out of hand, everyone was at their wits end and on opposite sides of one another. Raphael himself hadn't the slightest clue of what to think any more. He wanted them to train together, to _win_ together. But what would winning cost at this point? Heaven could easily be damaged beyond repair, souls could be ripped to shreds and sent elsewhere, and there were two mortals caught in the middle who could so easily be killed and set the entire plan aflame no matter which of them was taken out of the equation. He sighed, knowing well enough that his worries were a moot point. This war was happening, there was no turning back from Damien's outcry, much as the rest of the participants would appreciate it. This war was entirely Damien's, Heaven having nothing to gain from victory but a stasis existence and a few lost angels. It was maddening.

" _Come_ _ **on**_ _,"_ he heard, his ears perking in the dead of silence surrounding him. It popped up again in an irritated groan and he quickly made way over towards the arena on the outskirts of the city, swiftly and silently gliding through the warm air. He landed on the edge of the viewing platform, raising his brow at Kenny standing in the middle, staring down one of the sword targets determinedly. He continued watching the wooden pole before sneering, pushing it with his hands and turning away, looking down at the ground beneath him. "Goddammit," he muttered, voice cracking in the slightest as he held his arms with trembling hands, nails digging brutally into muscle.

Raphael considered flying off and leaving him be as God had instructed, but something about the way Kenny was barely able to hold himself up called to him. He let out a long breath, quietly making his way down and landing a few yards from the suffering blonde. "Kenneth?" he asked softly, watching his head snap up and towards him. "Are you all right?"

"No," he said bluntly, taking a long, shuddery breath and looking back at the ground. "I...I can't save him," he sniffled, shaking his head.

"You can," he encouraged, walking towards him and watching him sympathetically.

He sighed, "No. I can't. He's stuck being like _him_ ," he sneered. "Even if I get him home, he's a fucking _demon,_ Raph," he finally looked at him, Raphael's heart lurching at his tear-filled eyes. "I promised him that everything would be fine, that he'd just have to wait for me. Then he gets kidnapped. I promised him that I'd save him...and now he's being ripped apart and under Damien's control and..." he ran his fingers through his hair. "I kept promising him things and they keep backfiring on me."

Raphael frowned, "Kenneth, none of this is your fault."

"It's _all_ my fault!" he insisted. "If I was just fucking _normal_ instead of having such a fucked up soul, Kyle and I would be at home fucking watching a movie or something right now! He'd be angry about missing a question on a test and I'd be complaining about a goddamn car and...and it'd just be normal. We wouldn't be caught up in the middle of this angels versus demons bullshit..." he trailed off, anger faltering a bit in exhaustion, hiding his face in his hands. "I don't know what to do," he admitted.

The angel stepped up beside him and took a deep breath, "You fight," he said honestly. "You fight, you take Damien down, and you get him back. You don't have any other options, Kenneth. Because if you don't fight, if you just concede like Damien wants...You're no fool. You know he'd keep Kyle, especially now that he's infected."

"But why _him_?" he asked. "Yeah I love him or whatever but why wouldn't Damien do this to other people? Just...just keep Kyle safe in the background as a bargaining chip, ya know?" he winced, that idea not doing him much of a favor either, but it just seemed better than this alternative.

"Because you'd strike down other people," he shrugged. "And...you heard how Damien talked to him. Kyle's a challenge, and Damien loves to be challenged. He loves to show just how much power he has over his opponent." Kenny slunk even further and Raphael put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, there's nothing I can tell you that you haven't heard already, Kenneth," he said softly. "But you _know_ what you have to do. Kyle's counting on you. Forget the world, forget Heaven and Hell, forget all that," he waved his hand dismissively. "Because regardless of what God told you, you know what you're fighting for. You need to focus on Damien and Kyle. That's it."

He looked at him and took a deep breath, "Isn't that selfish? Mike would pound my skull in."

"Michael forgets that you're not an archangel first. Above all else, you _are_ mortal," he shrugged. "You're a mortal that's been thrown into a situation that you were guilted into...and I'm sorry," he said. "Sometimes we forget that mortals are selfish, but more often than not they have good intentions behind it. I certainly didn't think you should have any question in aiding us...but watching you and Kyle going through what you've been going through...I understand your reluctancy."

"Better late than never I guess," he smirked a bit before it fell again. "Honestly, my initial reluctancy was just me wanting to stay home and not risk my own ass. I never thought Ky'd be caught in the middle like this."

"None of us did," he said softly. "There would have been a lot more pre-planning done if his involvement was considered a factor, trust me."

Kenny scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Don't lie. He's one person." Raphael shifted uncomfortably as he continued, "The _only_ reason you all care is because what happens to him affects _me_." He narrowed his gaze, "If he was someone that no one knew or cared about, he'd just be considered a casualty to get out of the way. None of you care about him. You care about the fucking war, Raph. I'm not stupid. I ain't that bright, but I'm not completely retarded."

Raphael nodded slowly, well aware he couldn't exactly deny such a statement. Kyle had said it himself: It was him versus billions of others. But anyone with half a sound mind could easily tell that the odds weren't so obvious for the nerve-wracked blonde. "Perhaps...that would've been true," he sighed. "But now, we _do_ care about what happens to him. Not just because he's become a possible obstacle, not _just_ because he affects your abilities. You forget, Kenneth, our job is to guide and help humanity however we can. Seeing a mortal suffer for someone else's sin is something that we do not abide by lightly," he frowned. "We guide people towards the light as well as we can, and seeing one trapped in the dark who shouldn't be isn't easy on any of us, regardless of their connection to one such as yourself."

Kenny shifted guiltily and shrugged, "Can't help it, Raph," he whispered. "Uriel called him a monster...He's _not_ ," he insisted, eyes glimmering once more. "He's a really good person. The nicest person I know. I mean, he's a stubborn dickhead sometimes but...he's not a fucking _monster_. He'd never hurt anyone."

"I know," he nodded. "We all know. Uriel is...skeptical of any demons to say the least. He forgets that not all demons are bent on destruction. Some are just put in that position against their will," he shrugged. "You live thinking one thing for so long, however, especially considering the current circumstances, and you're going to have some people thinking along those lines."

Kenny let out a lengthy sigh, "I guess. Just didn't think an angel would be a racist prick," he rolled his eyes.

He snorted, "No one said we're perfect."

"Except, ya know, _church_ ," he smirked lightly, hitting him with his shoulder.

"Well you mortals are flawed as well," he teased. "Can't blame us for them getting their facts incorrect." Kenny sniggered a bit, the tenseness of his body dropping in the least, Raphael following suit. He looked from the blonde to the target and raised his brow. "So what were you trying to accomplish here?" he asked.

Ken stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "I...I was trying to do that light thing again," he winced. "I just can't seem to make it happen, though," he admitted in a grumble.

Raphael nodded, gripping his shoulder and turning him back to the target, walking up with him towards it. "Well, let's see if we can do anything together," he offered. Kenny smiled a little and nodded, looking relieved for some kind of guidance.

"How do you do your powers?" he asked quietly.

He shrugged, "My powers aren't based on force, remember. I heal, and that's derived from an essence of compassion."

"...That's fucking gay."

He whined as Raphael slapped the back of his head, rubbing the victim spot with a pout. "Do you want help or not, Ken?" he snapped.

He nodded, lips quirking. "You must be mad, you called me Ken."

Raphael blinked before rolling his eyes. "Keep your attitude up and I'll call you Nuisance." Kenny snickered, waving him on. "Anyway," he sighed, "the problem is we don't quite _know_ what your power derives from. Whether it be anger, sadness, fear, love, we don't know. We have to figure out first where the power lies within you before it can be unleashed."

The blonde tongued over his lips, nodding slowly. "Okay...and just how do we do that?"

"Well, we retrace your steps," he shrugged. "You unleashed it when Uriel called Kyle a monster. What were you feeling?"

"Everything," he said exhaustedly. "I was angry and scared and just...dead for a lack of better term," he mumbled. "It felt like everything just turned into a building and fell on top of me. And it's happened to me before, so don't think I'm exaggerating," he rolled his eyes.

"But in that split second when Uriel said what he did, do you remember how you felt?"

"Fucking furious," he muttered.

He bit his tongue lightly in thought, "Well you were furious when Damien showed you he'd captured Kyle, too. So it must not be that."

"I was more scared than anything," he admitted sheepishly. "But yeah...I was fucking livid."

"Then it's not fury," he noted. "You would've unleashed it already were that the case." Kenny looked at him confusedly and he shrugged, "You were shaky because you hadn't hit the emotional peak your powers needed," he explained. "Until you find that point, the powers are impatiently waiting to spring loose."

He narrowed his brow, "But...then what the hell else is there?" He looked around confusedly. "I mean I've been angry and scared and tired and _everything_ the last two months!"

"But Uriel pushed you far enough with some other emotion that it let everything out," Raphael murmured, tonguing over his lips. "What were you _thinking_ before you attacked him?"

He looked up thoughtfully, "I'll kill the bastard?" he winced.

"Which bastard? Uriel or Damien?" he urged.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Uh...Uriel in that moment."

Raphael nodded, mind whirring sharply. "Oh, because of how weak Kyle is?" he asked innocently.

Kenny blinked in shock, "Ky's not we-"

"I mean he _must_ be," he continued, shrugging dismissively. "Being so fragile and captured so easily. Someone stronger would've been able to resist Damien's hold, but I guess that's just not him, huh?"

"Hey, watch it," he warned, voice dropping into a growl, wings tensing behind him.

"I'm just saying, were Kyle of any actual _use_ then there wouldn't be a problem," he sighed. "Shame you had to fall in love with such a pathetic waste of space."

"FUCK OFF!" he screamed, eyes shifting on a dime and another burst of warm light screaming between the both of them. Raphael went flying backwards, barely catching himself with his wings and stumbling on his feet, panting with wide eyes at the steaming blonde and his mirrored irises.

"Found it," he said shakily, entire body heated from the power, the residual seeming to try to scorch through his skin. He held up his hands in defense, approaching the touchy blonde cautiously. "Ken, I didn't mean a word of that, all right? Calm down."

Kenny's shaking arms subsided in the slightest, eyes beginning to fade. "Then why did you-"

"It had to be tested, okay? Trust me, I don't believe a word of what I just said," he assured him, putting his hands on his shoulders, feeling his body beginning to slacken the tension. "Everything is just fine."

Ken let out a long, shuddering breath as his body seemed to drop ten degrees in an instant, blinking himself out of his stupor. "I don't understand," he said quietly, glancing into thoughtful hazel eyes. "What happened? I just got angry like I have been."

"No, you got protective," he murmured. "Big difference," he patted his shoulders before releasing him, leaning back against the target and taking a calming breath. His body was still reeling from the attack, a part of him unable to believe he'd released such a large amount of power with such little effort. Kenny stared at him, guilt over his features as he saw how exhausted Raphael looked. The brunette caught his stare and waved the notion away, "I'm fine," he assured him. "Wasn't quite expecting it to come out so easily..." he trailed off, looking him up and down. "Are you always so protective of him?"

He shrugged sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly? Not really. Ky doesn't need me to be, hell, he could kick _my_ ass if he got pissed enough. He's small but fuck does he have a mean left hook," he pouted. "We've had _instances_ but it's not like a nonstop thing, ya know."

"Instances?" he repeated.

"Ya know...without him knowing most of the time," he cringed. "Like, okay, we have this friend Craig, right? Well Ky's trashed out of his damn mind one night and Craig's trying to get all up in his business," he frowned. "And he said something about him being a whore and Ky's too off his rocker to know what he's saying. But I'm DD that night and understand fucking _everything_ and I beat the ever-loving _shit_ out of Tucker," he scowled, crossing his arms. Raphael smirked amusedly and the blonde shrugged. "People who hit on him or call him shit get my wrath. Except for Cartman," he corrected. "Kyle has dibs on kicking his fat ass."

The brunette chuckled and shook his head. "So you are, just not constantly."

"Like I said, he doesn't need me to be," he said softly. "He's got his shit together. I'm the one who needs him, it's not the other way around," he rubbed his temple tiredly, walking over and leaning against the target with him. He stared up at the watercolor sky and sighed. "I mean, I get offended if someone calls him something, but it's not often I get to the point where I feel the need to kill someone, ya know?"

Raphael nodded, "Well...this situation is changing that for you."

He glanced over at him, cocking his brow. "Whaddya mean?"

The angel sighed, "Because unfortunately...Kyle can't defend himself as well here. Mean left hook or not, Damien's got him on the ropes. So anyone insulting him when he isn't able to defend himself is liable to send you spiraling out of control wanting to protect him."

Kenny blinked confusedly, turning back to stare at the edge of the arena. "But I've been over-protective this whole time."

"No, you haven't," he shook his head. "A part of you held on to the idea that Kyle's stubborn and wouldn't let Damien do anything to him. When you saw him out of his element and losing his control by Damien's hand...that notion disappeared." Kenny stared at the ground as though it contained all his answers, eyes flickering around bewilderedly as Raphael's words began to wrap around his frazzled mind. "Your power is to defend the defenseless," Raphael said softly. "That's one of the most powerful gifts that Heaven's ever instilled onto humanity...it's something very powerful and very special."

"Stop being gay," he murmured reflexively, still trying to let everything make sense.

He shrugged, "Think about it, though, Ken: He was intoxicated and couldn't defend himself against whomever your friend was," he waved his hand dismissively, "So you took it upon yourself to protect his good name. And now you have the need to protect not only his humanity, but his life in general, because so long as Damien has him, he can't." Blue eyes lifted to him again and he smiled reassuringly, "God told you your love was dangerous...and maybe in some ways that's true," he shrugged. "But here? I think it's going to be what saves _both_ of you."

"Both?" he questioned meekly.

"It'll unleash your powers and I guarantee it's going to be what Kyle latches onto to keep Damien from controlling him completely," he chuckled quietly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, and never tell Him that I did: But you need to ignore God's advice," he said. "You _do_ need to focus on Kyle. But, you're going to have to focus on the side of him you don't associate with him as well. His frailties, his helplessness...and his humanity as a whole," he shrugged.

He rubbed his arms and nodded softly, "You realize you're asking me to undo two decades of knowing him in one way to see him in another, right?" he smirked a little.

He smiled back, "Well, keep focused and you'll get more decades with the old Kyle again," he assured him. He looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. "Come on, you need to sleep. We can continue this tomorrow," he gestured, getting off the post.

Kenny slowly maneuvered up beside him and sighed, "Thanks," he said quietly. "It's nice that not everyone is trying to just be my parent and just _tell_ me what to do."

"I'm no fool, Ken," he replied. "You're stubborn yourself, directing you won't get you anywhere," he rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Come on," he repeated, starting to take flight out of the arena. Kenny watched him for a moment before slowly following after him, staring at his hands as he did so, barely able to comprehend what had happened here. He sighed to himself as he made his way out of the stage and followed Raphael back towards the resting grounds, unable to get the horrifying idea out of his mind; The idea filled with monumental pressure that Kyle was completely helpless and only Kenny could save him. He gulped, just praying that somewhere in the mess, regardless of how he needed to remember the redhead now, that the real Kyle was still out there, fighting all the way down.


	18. Dust to Ash; Breath to Fire

**So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. -** _**Genesis 1:27** _

He was starting to wonder if he was losing his mind. And, in some respects, there may have been some truth to that question. The veins spiraling from his shoulders had him captivated, eyeing the vessels with keen, curious eyes, glazed over in pain and exhaustion that he wasn't sure just how he'd gotten through thus far. Closer inspection showed a number of the strands twisted together, coiled like individual threads pinched to a tapestry. The weary part of him couldn't help but be marveled that Damien had made this possible, that he'd turned his body into something tangible beyond anything that any other living mortal had staved through.

The part of Kyle that was still himself, however, was scared. Mortified. On the brink of bashing his head against the ground to attempt to knock himself out. He took a deep breath, head dropping from staring at his holders onto his blood-soaked jeans. He was so fucking _tired_. He was beyond frustrated, mind continually wondering back and forth over the very simple but oh-so-vital question: Why hadn't Kenny saved him yet?

He sniffled a bit, groaning as he shifted, fingers mindlessly toying with the chains holding his wrists. He wondered briefly if his newfound claws could somehow break through, tapping on one briefly. He shuddered at the sound scraping over the iron, his hair standing on end. He knew. He knew well enough that Kenny _couldn't_ save him. Not just yet at least. But even then, what if Damien was right? He bit down lightly into the cloth gag shoved between his teeth, feeling a fang digging into the fabric along the way. He cringed to himself, letting out a hopeless half-sob. How would Kenny react if he couldn't be human again? Would he be willing to risk everything for a fiancé with toxic blood and the will of the fucking anti-christ? He sunk into himself miserably, red eyes lazily scanning over the dungeon floor. This just wasn't _fair_.

His blood was in a constant low-burn at this point, searing his insides, making him beyond nauseated and starting to fuel a healthy rage that his tiredness was attempting to subdue. Kyle began to bristle, Damien's cocky smirk flashing through his blurred thought process. A long, angry breath broke through his nostrils as his temperament began to escalate.

The concept that Damien ruined his and Kenny's futures for good finally started to take hold, the mere _notion_ that the son of a bitch destroyed their happiness was overwhelmingly potent in the tiny prison. His thumb found the silver ring so snugly secured on his finger, shuddering with the contact, remembering through the fog that he needed to get _out_. Kyle growled, energy gaining a momentary boost from his frenzied adrenaline. He grunted, raising up higher on his knees and trying to pull himself forward, ignoring his lodes slicing through more and more muscle as he shook like a rabid dog. He wanted to get out. He wanted to get to Kenny.

He wanted to snap Damien's fucking neck for doing this to him.

Kyle gasped as a surge of calming warmth coursed through him, paralyzing him as the blazing boil calmed for but a moment. His body slunk and he panted, eyes widening as he gazed down towards his chest. He watched Damien's claw marks begin to stitch back together, strands as thin as hair bridging the gap and reforming his flesh, leaving raw pink marks in their wake. He nearly cried in relief, feeling the entirety of his back being reborn, every inch of him breathing in the rejuvenation. He looked at the ceiling above him, healed chest heaving in utter alleviation.

"It's about damn time."

He snapped his head down, eyes narrowing at Damien leaning against the doorframe, a snarky grin plastered over his face. Kyle screamed nonsense, his revived body pushing him forward as he tried to break out of his confinement and leap towards the monster. Damien raised his brow amusedly, stepping over towards him and standing but an inch from his reach. "Now, Little one, behave," he snorted. "I'm proud of you, you have nothing to worry about."

Kyle sneered, watching as Damien reached down, tearing the gag from his mouth. He groaned, raising and lowering his jaw time and again and shaking himself out of his dumbfounded stupor. "Proud?" he rasped. "I don't give a _shit_ what you feel, you fuck," he spat. He glowered as Damien kneeled in front of him, a stoic expression staring him down.

"Do you want out of the chains or not?" he questioned simply. Kyle's lips formed a tight line, both sets of red eyes daring each other to make the next move. Damien finally broke, giving a huff of a laugh. "Poor Little one," he muttered, waving his hand and watching Kyle's veins fall to the floor before redirecting up and back into his body. Kyle shuddered, feeling them crawling under his skin, a quick glance to his shoulders noting the movement as they found their way back into their positions. He whimpered a bit, back muscles tensing as the wounds began to heal before turning his attention back to the amused man in front of him. "Doesn't that feel better?" he cooed.

"Fuck off," he spat.

Damien rolled his eyes. "Look, Little one, drop the fucking attitude or I'll keep you chained here."

"Well then I guess I'm not doing a damn thing for your little pussy war, am I?" he scoffed.

Damien sighed irritably, watching the little redhead trying to struggle out of his restraints. "You know, it's surprising," he said blandly, waiting for a questionable look to pass over Kyle's face. "McCormick is such a happy-go-lucky little fuck. How the fuck does he put up with someone as irritatingly stubborn as you?"

He coughed out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh. I'm _so_ sorry. I forgot that the proper way to greet someone who fucking _abducts and mutilates you_ is to dance around to mariachi music. My fucking mistake, best friend," he rolled his eyes.

Damien snorted to himself, tipping Kyle's chin up with a claw. "I imagine your legs are hurting something awful, aren't they?" he raised his brow. Kyle stubbornly remained silent, bruised eye twitching under his stare. The demon chuckled, standing and waving his hand, turning on his heel to walk towards the door. Kyle yelped as the chains fell from his hands, his body flailing involuntarily as he fell to the ground. He groaned, shakily planting his palms atop the stone and pushing himself up, growling subtly at the stark red marks overshadowing his wrists and the pentagram now tattooed onto his hand. He genially worked up to the sides of his legs, wincing as he rubbed them, trying to get them to regain at least an inkling of normalcy.

He paused as his left arm caught his eye, raising it into the light and narrowing his eyes confusedly. His festering wound was still there, still in the same position that it had been when Damien turned him. Another look at his arms revealed the dog's bite marks still prominent, scarred and painful to the touch. He let his finger rest on one, wincing at the burn he could feel emanating from the blood flowing beneath it. The burn on his side was still showcasing some color and what little pain had been lingering there for all this time. He looked up from his bewilderment to see Damien watching him, that same hollowness breaking back into his stare. Kyle shuddered at the intensity, but straightened himself up, returning the expression.

Damien chuckled, "They won't heal," he stated. Kyle blinked and he shrugged, "You got those wounds before your body changed," he explained. "The dead skin is your old skin, and the new doesn't know how to heal it. Tough break," he smirked.

Kyle's stomach dropped in panic, automatically reaching up and touching over his scratched right eye, biting his lip and wincing as a fang once again caught him off guard, slicing through his chapped skin. His vision hadn't gotten any better, was it _stuck_ like this?! He looked again at his infection, touching the oozing wound and feeling bile rise in his throat. He could lose it. The infection could spread and he would lose his goddamn _arm_.

"You can keep the infection at that stage," Damien relayed casually. "But not make it better. Not without years of training that is," he smirked. "Now," he turned and folded his finger. "Come along, Little one. Let's take you for a walk."

Kyle snarled, "What am I, your fucking dog?!"

"No, just my bitch," he raised his brow amusedly, beginning to walk out of the prison. Kyle blinked, muttering under his breath as he shakily made his way onto his feet, wobbling with each slow intake. He whined subtly as he meandered towards the doorway, trying his damnedest not to fall over. He panted, clasping onto the wall as he made it over, looking to see Damien waiting impatiently for him. "Come on or I'll _make_ you," he warned.

Kyle took a deep, wavering breath. Much as he hated to listen to the bastard, he really wasn't in the mood to get ripped to shreds again. He stumbled his way out, glancing at Gragor sneering at him. He returned the expression, "I'm stronger," he reminded him in a mocking tone. "Try me."

The monster growled menacingly at him before Damien's loud laughter burst through the air. The noirette looked at the man and shook his head. "Awfully confident, aren't we?"

He frowned, "Confident enough to kick your ass, yeah."

Damien smirked, walking over and grabbing the back of his neck, starting to lead him away from the dungeon. Kyle hissed, trying to push him away before Damien rolled his eyes, grabbing his wrists and holding them behind his back as he continued on. "You may be stronger than Gragor, but I'm _much_ stronger than you, Little one," he reminded him. "Remember, your powers derive from my own."

"Must be why I feel like being an asshole," he muttered. Damien shook his head again, continuing to press him on. He led him around to the side of the prison to a large body of liquid, stained like fresh blood from the overhead carmine sky.

"There, have a drink," he pushed him a bit.

The redhead glared, "Why? More fucking poison?"

"It's fucking water, you little prick," he rolled his eyes, grabbing his curls and throwing him down onto the stone beneath them. Kyle got back to his knees and bared his fangs for a moment before his aching throat got in the way of his rebellion. He cursed to himself, leaning over and poking the liquid a bit, watching it drip off of his finger and trying to note any differences. "Fuck will you just _drink_?!" Damien demanded. "You're useless to me if you sound like a fucking lung cancer patient!"

"Fuck off," he snapped before his shoulders drooped tiredly. Rebelling was one thing, denying himself of sustenance was just foolish, and he damn well knew it. He cupped his hands, grabbing a load of the liquid and holding it up to his lips, his mouth rejoicing like a choir as bliss lathered over his dry tongue. His eyes clenched as his throat struggled to swallow it down, throbbing painfully but still begging for more. He greedily refilled his hands time and again, savoring each drop of lukewarm crystal nectar. He almost didn't _care_ if it was poisonous, it was the only saving grace he'd had in so long, and he was damn well going to enjoy it.

Damien watched him silently while scanning over his bared back, noting how his slimmed muscles flexed with each dip into the water, his raw vein wounds shimmering in their exposure. He looked as Kyle splashed water in his face, scrubbing violently and running his dripping fingers through his hair, slow, glistening trails flowing down his back, over his scar; _Damien's_ scar. The demon watched him smoothly working through his matted curls, fingers untwisting knots and letting tendrils fall back into their proper place. He caught the gleam of Kyle's ring as he worked, rolling his eyes. "Are you done playing hair salon?" he asked impatiently.

Kyle stole a glare at him from the corner of his eyes and huffed as he continued his work, "Fuck you." His voice rang with more of its clear tone, words not ailing him so much as they had been mere minutes ago. "I've been locked up for months and my hair's a greasy fucking mess. So sue me."

"Sorry, didn't realize I was interrupting the princess's beauty routine," he scoffed. "Trying to look pretty for McCor-oh _wait_ ," he smirked, watching as Kyle slowly turned his head, eyes narrowed dangerously in warning. "You're a demon, and he doesn't _like_ demons. Looks like you're going to have to find yourself someone else to fuck your whiny little ass," he taunted, eyes glittering with mischief.

Kyle screeched from behind his teeth, quickly pivoting and leaping into Damien, grabbing his torso and bringing him down onto the ground. He straddled over top his hips, one hand pressing his shoulder down and the other ripping through his hair as Damien watched in amusement, not the slightest bit phased. "I was wrong. Kenny won't kill you," Kyle hissed, eyes alit. "He won't get the _chance._ Because _I_ am taking the fucking privilege."

"Oh? Then please, do so," he shrugged from his awkward positioning. "Please, show me how such a weak little princess can defeat the dragon and save herself," he grinned slyly. Kyle moved his claws from his arm to his neck, trying to dig into his skin before a hand grabbed his wrist suddenly. "Really?" Damien raised his brow, flicking his wrist and watching Kyle fly off of him and skid into the lake. Kyle burst from the water, clawing at the embankment and coughing. "Well, now you've had a full bath. Is that better, your highness?" he smirked, hopping onto his feet. "You don't get control of your power and you don't get to me, I can guarantee it, Little one."

Kyle sneered, digging his nails into cracks of the stone and pulling himself out of the lake. "I don't need powers to beat you."

"And that is where you are _sorely_ mistaken," he replied dryly. "Demons are not taken down with brute force, Princess. They're only bested when someone with more power presides over them. Consider that lesson number one of your new life. The quicker you learn the ropes of a demon the better," he chuckled evilly.

Kyle pushed onto his feet, stalking over and shoving Damien's shoulders, grimacing when he barely stumbled back a step. His sharp eyes blared in Damien's face, forcing his dripping bangs out of his way. "I'm _not_ a demon," he repeated.

"Oh?" he repeated. "Then come with me," he grabbed Kyle's arm before he could reply, hauling him off back towards the front of the prison and off towards a sector of torture. Kyle blinked, trying to take his arm back but unable to between Damien's iron-strong grip and his tiredness finally starting to catch back up with him, adrenaline dwindling into a nub.

"Let go of me," Kyle demanded, slamming a fist into Damien's back. The noirette rolled his eyes, hiking him up beside him.

"Keep it up and your veins come back out, do you understand me?" he glared. Kyle's face fell darkly, begrudgingly allowing himself to be tugged along like a child. They came up to a small area filled with mortals looking around in fear, waiting for their tormenters to return. Concealing themselves behind a rock, Damien looked down to see Kyle's confused face. "Psychological," he said bluntly. "The torturers come at random intervals to keep them terrified," he chuckled.

"You sick fucking prick," he shook his head slowly, heart lurching in sympathy for so many of them. They looked too _normal_ to all be evil...right?

Damien grinned, "Now. Just watch this," he said. Kyle yelped as Damien's strong grip threw him forward, landing in a slide in front of the crowd. He groaned, getting to his feet and rubbing his temple, looking to see the mortals staring at him in terror.

"Oh _God_ ," a woman sobbed behind her hands.

He blinked, "Wait. Wait I'm not one of them!" he insisted. "I'm fucking human!" he gestured to himself desperately, eyes flowing over the petrified lot. "I'm not hurting anyone. I..." he trailed off as another demon came up to the side, blinking in confusion at Kyle, remaining a good distance from the small man. Standing nearly two feet taller than himself and over twice his size, the redhead couldn't help but gulp, forcing his attention back onto the people in front of him. Kyle watched in astonishment as the group edged itself closer to the demon's side. "The fuck are you... _He's_ going to torture you!" he gestured his arms frantically, dropping them in front of himself as the crowd flinched. "I-I don't..."

"Very _good_ , Princess," Damien said, stepping up beside him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Look at how you instill _fear_ in them," he leaned down beside his ear, tonguing over his fangs while Kyle stared on blankly. "You see...our minions know their place..." he paused and grinned. "Yes, Little one, _our_ minions."

He looked at him shakily, "W-what do you-"

"When someone comes to Hell, there's obviously a pecking order. My father, myself, then whomever we denote to be under us...And well, you're part of _me_. And they know it," he jerked his head over to the tremoring crowd. "They can _feel_ that you're part of the higher ranks. They know just what a destructive little monster you can be," he purred, thumb gliding over his shoulder, ghosting over the back of his neck.

He turned and his eyes burst with color, a powerful force sending Damien stumbling back a bit, watching the breaking redhead with a wild grin. "I'm NOT like you!" he screamed. His stance dropped as a chorus of terrified shouts erupted from the mortals, heart seeming to drip like tar towards his stomach.

"And yet...you're not like _them_ either, are you?" he gestured towards the lot. Kyle glanced at them once again before his eyes drifted up towards the sky, swallowing a lump trying to suffocate him and going to grab his ring, stroking the smooth surface frantically. Damien grinned smugly, "And you're certainly no angel. McCormick will have an awfully _hard_ time accepting what you've become. Won't he?"

He dropped back towards the demon and took a deep, steadying breath. "You're full of it," he said lowly. "Kenny won't _care_ what I am. All he'll care about is who did this to me and how he can get fucking revenge."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "A lot of faith for a minion of Hell," he jeered. "Face it, Princess, you're more like me than you are any mortal, and certainly more than McCormick." Kyle stared at him, fingers still working around the silver on his hand, trying to bring himself _some_ kind of comfort in the mess.

"Master Damien?" a voice broke through their tension.

"Yes, Gragor?" Damien asked dryly, refusing to let his gaze falter from the redhead, stomach twisting in anticipation for Kyle's next move.

He cleared his throat, "They found it, My lord."

His eyes widened and his face broke into a larger grin, focus finally dropping as he nodded to his comrade. "Excellent." He looked back at Kyle's face, insides flittering at the devastation hiding in that sharp glare. "Tell me, Princess, if I hand you off to Gragor, will you behave?"

He sneered. "No. And stop calling me that."

"You're part of me, I'll call you as I please," he murmured, leaning down in his face. "Now, either you go back with him and get back in your chains like a good boy, or I string you up _by_ your veins," he raised his brow. "Which do you prefer?" Kyle's shoulders dropped and he looked away from him angrily, Damien grabbing his chin and pulling him back in front of him. "Answer the question."

"...Chains," he mumbled.

"Good boy," he praised, patting his damp head. "Open your mouth."

His face twisted, "Ex _cuse_ me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Open your fucking mouth. You talk enough it should be second nature to you." Kyle growled and Damien lost all hope of patience, grabbing a handful of his hair and tearing at it, watching his lips part in pain. He waved his hand, his gag flying back into place. Kyle shook his head and reached up to grab at it, trying to get it out of his teeth but unable to move it. "With control over your powers, this would be a simple spell to undo," Damien smirked, watching Kyle's eyes move back into his, such a boastful anger about them it made the demon shiver. "Now," he grabbed him and shoved him over to Gragor, "break out of your chains and you'll be allowed to _eat_ ," he promised. "Good luck." He nodded to Gragor who grabbed Kyle's arms and wheeled him around, shoving him back towards his prison, the redhead trying not to simply turn and rip out the monster's throat.

He watched after them for a moment before chuckling, looking towards the mortals still standing there in a silenced terror. "Isn't it _nice_ when you see your betters?" he cooed. He turned towards the demon watching him and nodded, "Keep up the good work, Reiadon," he said simply. "I trust you're still enjoying all this?" he waved aimlessly.

He smirked, "Not as much as you just seemed to be, Master Damien."

The demon let out a low chuckle and shrugged. "What can I say?..." he looked back towards Kyle being shoved into his prison and smiled hungrily. "Mortals are just so much _fun_ to play with."


	19. Trust in your Fellow Man

**The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? -** _**Jeremiah 17:9** _

From the viewing balcony, the chaos reigning below them seemed small and insignificant. The constant _schling_ of swords passing over one another rose to their ears in a chorus of what the future held; a chilling realization passing on the lot of them. Below, they watched their blonde hope rushing at guards, cringing each time one of them managed to catch a blow to the man.

"Well, he's not doing... _terribly_ ," Jegudiel winced, watching as Kenny hopped back to his feet and merely punched a guard in the face, shouting nonsense for whacking him over the head.

Raphael chuckled, shaking his head. "He's doing just fine. You just don't like how unorthodox his methods are."

Uriel scoffed, pushing his blonde curls out of his face, "Unorthodox? This is just maddening. He won't be able to defend _himself_ let alone Heaven if he keeps this up. Him and that...redheaded monstrosity of his will be our undoing," he grumbled.

The brunette glared at him from the sides of his eyes, taking a long breath. "Watch yourself, Uriel," he warned. "When he gets more practiced with his powers, his strength will surpass your own. He's the one person you shouldn't want to engage in war with."

"Besides," Gabriel sighed, stretching his wings out and cracking his neck, "Whether or not he's the best doesn't matter. Kenneth is another number on our team and we need all that we can get." Uriel rolled his eyes, lazily keeping his grey gaze scanning over the blonde as he clumsily meandered about trying to block a barrage of attacks from every side.

"He's doing wonderfully," a soft voice perked behind them. They looked to see God and Jesus making their way over, both of them peering over the balcony between Barachiel and Selaphiel. "He recovered from his shock much quicker than I expected. He's finally handling his sword like it belongs to him," God continued approvingly.

"He's no Michael, though," Gabriel smirked, elbowing the brunette a bit.

Michael snorted, pushing him back and nodding down at the man. "So long as he's not just plain old Kenneth, then that's fine. Though he _does_ need to cut back on kicking people," he raised his brow as a guard went flying back from him.

Selaphiel laughed heartily, "Hey, it's effective, isn't it?" Michael just chuckled, giving a small nod. Raphael glanced over, a sigh of relief escaping him at the approval subtly lingering in Michael's amber stare.

"He needs to get to work on his _power_ ," Uriel cut in with a frown. They glanced at him and he shrugged, "We all know that Damien can't be defeated with the sword alone. He's going to have to actually start working on what he can do."

"He _has_ been working," Raphael growled. "Like crazy. Remember that none of us were an expert upon our ascension, yourself included."

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yes, but we all focused on our training. We didn't dance around it because of one little demon."

Michael's face dropped into a vicious scowl, "Watch your tongue," he warned.

Jesus sighed tiredly, "Uriel, Kenny has every _reason_ to focus on that."

"And Kyle is _not_ a demon," Raphael added angrily.

Uriel cocked his brow, "Did you not _see_ what I saw? What mortal can survive having their innards torn out like that? Hm? Which of _us_ could survive such an attack?" he gestured around. They all stared at him in tensive silence and he continued, "He may have _been_ mortal, but he's not now. He's nothing but a demon. And worse yet, he's part of _Damien_ now. And that means he's part of the demon army and extremely dangerous."

"No, he's not," Raphael spat.

"Calm yourselves," God said gently, never letting His eyes falter from Kenny's performance. "We don't know what direction this battle will take the two of them. We don't know if Kyle will be himself or Damien will find his way through his soul. So jumping to hasty conclusions is a waste of time."

A moment of silence passed before Uriel shook his head. "Forgive me, but shouldn't we be prepared for the possibility of a worst-case scenario?"

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, "And just _what_ do you suggest? We make little Kyle dolls and have Kenny practice taking their heads off? We try Damien's tactics and brainwash him into thinking Kyle doesn't care for him so he could easily strike him down? What would _you_ do, Uriel?" he demanded. All eyes turned onto the blonde, waiting for his response impatiently.

He took a deep breath, looking back at the fighting blonde. "We teach him there's more important things than his own self-gain."

"He's already doing that!" Raphael snapped, sending the blonde recoiling a bit. "Ken was fighting this war _before_ Kyle was abducted. And that just added a reason for him to fight even harder. He's going to be what wins this war, Uriel. And your little hateful nonsense certainly isn't helping."

"Well _forgive me_ for thinking that the safety of the world should take precedence over their relationship," he rolled his eyes.

"Enough," God looked at him with a rare, steely gaze. "Kenneth is improving well and that is all that matters. And if his method of improvement spans from wanting to save Kyle from what Damien's done to him, then so be it. Isn't that right, Raphael?" He glanced at him with a small smirk.

Raphael cleared his throat and nodded, blushing lightly. "Sorry. I shouldn't have went against your word."

"Don't be," He replied softly. "He's lost a lot these past few months," he gestured down to the blonde. "He needs someone to help him along the way. You're doing just fine with him."

"Thank you," he smiled. "I like him, he's a good kid," he shrugged. "A little smart-mouthed but you spend so long living with people like Michael you just get used to it," he gestured to his companion aimlessly.

Michael smirked, hitting his arm and letting out a long sigh. "So, you're the one that's been training him. What do you think his chances are?"

He shrugged once more, "I think they're good. Lucky for us his willingness to win rivals the power of his attitude," he rolled his eyes amusedly. They all paused, looking down as a bright flash erupted through the arena, sending a wave of soldiers sprawling backwards in shock. Raphael laughed quietly, "And he's learning how to harbor that willingness."

God smiled, "Well, you were right about him needing to focus his emotions on Kyle. So long as he keeps on going as you instructed, he should pop up through the ranks in no time."

Jesus smirked, "Is that you admitting your mistake?"

He shrugged, "I'm not perfect. With the rest of you, focusing on the bigger picture needed to be your objective..." He paused, letting out a sigh, tail flickering behind Him. "But...Kenneth is mortal. His life was lived with a fine-eyed amount of things that he strove to keep. I suppose it's easy to forget that in all this mess."

Uriel shook his head, lips twisting into a scowl. "And what of when he's on the battlefield?" he questioned.

"What do you mean?" Jegudiel raised his brow.

"I mean what's he going to do when he sees that pest of his?" he frowned. "Will he keep fighting or will he be so overthrown with emotion he drops his guard and gets himself killed?"

Michael sighed irritably, "Well, that depends on more factors than we can count. Whether Kyle is himself or Damien's slave being the biggest, unfortunately. No matter the outcome, I don't think we can ever properly prepare Kenneth for if things are indeed at their worst."

Uriel scoffed, turning on his heel and heading away from the group. "Then _we_ better train. I refuse to put all of my faith into someone so easily swayed by just one demon."

The lot watched him walking off, scowls and disappointed expressions following him along the way. "What is his _problem_?" Gabriel scoffed. "He acts as though his own betrothed was taken by a demon and had to be slain."

"You know how he gets," Barachiel shrugged. "Too hasty to make decisions."

"And too stubborn to change them," Jegudiel added.

God sighed, "Uriel has always been like that," He reminded them. "He only has the best of intentions, though, you're all more than aware of that."

"Yes, well, he doesn't have to be a prick about it," Raphael muttered, glancing back at Kenny leaning against the wall panting as the group took a break below. "He needs to tread more carefully. Ken is emotionally unstable as it is. Having Uriel poking and prodding about Kyle is liable to set him off...And unfortunately at the wrong side."

Jesus glanced up at Michael who was staring off thoughtfully. "Michael, what do you believe would be our best course of action?"

He looked at him and blinked before his stance drooped tiredly. "I don't know," he said earnestly. "There are far too many possible results for us to get him properly prepared for..." he trailed off, sharp eyes catching Kenny's forlorn expression below them, his mind obviously spinning with worry once more. "Raphael, you continue to work with him for now," he instructed. "And Jegudiel, you begin to assist."

Jegudiel nodded, "Very well."

"When are _you_ going to work with him, Michael?" Gabriel asked softly. "He needs your help more than any of ours."

He sighed, "After he works with all of you...including Uriel." The remainder surrounding him looked at each other skeptically as Michael kept his focus down below. "If anyone is going to get Kenneth to bring out his powers to their full potential, it's going to be him."

* * *

 

The excitement was nearly unbearable, his claws digging into his palms in the rush of it all. Damien hurried through his portal, landing in front of their library of tomes and spells, taking a deep breath. This was it. His moment. What he'd been waiting for. This war was finally going to be _his_.

He shoved through the doors, catching his father's towering figure right off. He scurried towards him, eyes narrowing slightly and excitement trying to dissipate all at once as he saw the clear display of concern splashed across his red face. "Something the matter, Pops?" he questioned.

Satan's head snapped towards him and he cleared his throat. "Damien...there's a problem."

He rolled his eyes and groaned softly, "Don't say that. For the love of you there's been enough fucking problems in this already!"

He frowned, "Well, you wanted this, Son. War isn't exactly a dance."

"It is when _I_ lead it," he boasted, glaring at his father rolling his eyes. He came up beside him, looking at a large book spilling pages across the table like ink-stained snowy terrain. His eyes dully flickered about, seeing nothing but basic casting rituals scattered within the confines of the parchment. "Okay? What's the problem? This is fairly straightforward."

"Except for this," he muttered, shoving a lone paper in front of him.

Damien hovered over it, red eyes scanning the ancient text warily. He stopped. And blinked, his chest twisting in dismay. "It takes a day?!"

"Per. Person," Satan sighed, rubbing his head. "Damien, this spell revolves around completely rewiring someone's soul and wiping it clean. You did only half of that to Kyle and it took over a _month_."

He growled, reaching down and frantically sorting through papers, catching demons backing away from him in his peripheral. "Who found it?" he demanded.

"I did, M-master Damien," a voice spoke up. He glanced over to find a lithe, black scaled demon hovering over him. The monster stood a good three feet towering above him but still seemed to be as terrified as if he were no more than a child.

"Timpetan," he snarled. "Was there _anything_ you found about lessening the time?"

He shook his head, gulping audibly. "No, My lord. It's too complex to shorten the process."

"And complex enough that only twenty of us have enough power as to actually accomplish it," Satan frowned. "And that's including yourself, me...and now Kyle."

Damien scoffed, "He can't scratch me let alone perform an incantation," he muttered.

"No, but he has the strength," he sighed wearily, aimlessly flicking a sheet of parchment. "Damien...it's over."

"What?" he demanded, snapping his head towards the Beast.

His blackened eyes were glazed, just too tired of everything going on for this war. "Face it, we're screwed."

"No, we're not," he said firmly. "What are our numbers now? Demon-wise."

He shrugged, "About fifteen million. But not many of them are exactly...war-bred," he reminded him.

"Then they're the first wave," he said dryly. "They get sent in to tire out those goody-goody fuckers and then we start sending in the _real_ artillery."

"Except we outnumbered them far more vastly in the last battle, Damien!" he yelled. "It was one thing if we could get _all_ the mortals on our side, but one a day?"

He set his lips firmly, "That's almost 2,000 more soldiers if we stay on my timeline."

He stared at his son in disbelief. "You still want to fight that soon?! I just told you how horrendous our odds were! This will be an even larger defeat than last-"

"No!" he interrupted, hopping up on the table to come closer to his dad's height. He scowled, "We have to do this as quickly as we fucking can, Old man. Because every _second_ that we're not fighting them, McCormick is getting stronger."

"Exactly!" he glared right back. The demons surrounding the both of them very slowly backed away, watching the two of them facing each other down in intrigue and terror. "Kenny will destroy us, Damien. And he's going to come for _you_ in particular with what you did to Kyle!"

He broke into a smirk, "Good. I _want_ him to. I _want_ him to come at me just so I can send his little bitch in to finish him off. And then I can snap _his_ pretty little neck. Won't kill him, but I'll have me a nice little paralyzed doll to play with all I want," he grinned maliciously.

Satan blinked at him, brow raising in suspicion at the joyous prospects dancing through his son's gleaming eyes. "Damien...what's your end goal here?"

His expression dropped confusedly, "What?"

"You kill Kenny and incapacitate Kyle. What then?"

He sputtered at the demon as though he were stupid. "Then we kill God and then we get the world, Pops!" He gestured his arms around wildly. "That's what this whole fucking war is for! Did you think I wanted to fight for fucking better floral arrangements?!"

He glowered, "No. I just want to know why Kenny seems to be your main goal. And why you're so interested in keeping Kyle around when, regardless of how this war turns out, he isn't going to be on your side!"

He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "I'm after McCormick because _he's_ what's in our way. And I just like the idea of torturing him even when he's gone by keeping his little pet," he hissed. "And it doesn't _matter_ if he's on my side or not. He can't do much when I'm more powerful and can hold him down without breaking a sweat."

Satan leaned closer towards his son's face and took a deep breath. "This is suicide. You're setting yourself up to get yourself killed, Damien."

He straightened up, matching his father's intimidation. "I'd like to see them try," he growled. "You forget one _very_ clear thing, Pops: I don't take losing lightly. And living down here toiling for _God_ has been nothing but a loss, and you damn well know it!" He held his hands out in front of him, shaking them in his rage. "You were banished from Heaven for rebelling. Live up to your fucking punishment, Dad!"

He groaned, leaning back and rubbing his temple. "That was _thousands_ of years ago, Damien."

"So?" he questioned. "Make a fucking comeback! Dad, think about it. Think about how much you've worked to repay this debt. You've been doing nothing but sentencing for far too long. Don't you want control again?" he hissed. "Don't you want people to remember to _fear_ you, and not just went they're sent down here?"

He let out an irritable sigh. "Would that be nice? Yes. But I know a fruitless endeavor when I see one, Damien. I've lived through it twice now!" he held up the number on his clawed fingers. "War. Isn't. A game," he enunciated.

"It is when _you_ make the rules," he raised his brow. "I have the fucking king, Dad. I have McCormick's little whore strung up under my hand," he held up his pentagram.

"I don't think-"

"Listen," he interrupted. "Whether or not you're behind this, I am _leading_ this war. I am taking down Heaven, and God, and McCormick. Either you're in this or not, but I guarantee that it's happening with or without your fucking blessing!"

The two of them stared each other down in silence, the outlying demons unable to tear their eyes off the power struggle playing out before them. After a few minutes of heavy, tensed nothingness, Satan let out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head subtly. "You're going to get yourself killed," he repeated softly. "You're in way over your head. Everything's gone wrong, Damien. Why let the pattern continue?"

He scoffed, "Because our _lives_ have been nothing but things going wrong at every turn. Fucking mortals being stubborn, mutineers, increased population just shoving _all_ of these people down here...It's time for a fucking change, Dad. I'm tired of this and so are you. Why should we let Heaven continue to push us around? Last time I checked, _we're_ the bad guys. Why should _they_ get all the power?!"

"Because they're stronger," he answered.

"No, they're luckier," he corrected. "Otherwise they wouldn't have panicked and grabbed McCormick once again. They know that we have them on the ropes. They _know_ what we can do. And who are we to disappoint them?" he smirked.

Satan sighed, "I really think you're wasting your time, Damien."

"And I think that you've lost your edge, Dad," he retorted. "I'll win this war and you'll remember how you're supposed to be." He looked around at the demons surrounding them and glared. "I want all seventeen that are strong enough gathered here and given a briefing," he ordered. "They are to know that _this_ is their constant assignment until we go to war. Am I clear?" A murmur of agreements spread out along the crowd and the noirette looked back at his father staring at him blankly. "I got this, Dad," he said.

"I hope so," he sighed again. "You're getting yourself in too deep."

He shrugged, hopping down off the table. "Maybe so, but I have something that Heaven's version of isn't quite as much to work with." Satan raised his brow questionably and a hint of amusement flashed over Damien's stare. "I have the _real_ secret weapon."


	20. Into the Light

**Who is left among you who saw this temple in its former glory? And how do you see it now? Does it not seem to you like nothing in comparison? -** _**Haggai 2:3** _

_He was right there. Standing silently and staring right back with that face that Kyle had grown to love so much. His heart fluttered, and despite the unfamiliar surroundings, he felt as though he were home again._

" _Kenny?" he called out, seeing that handsome blonde face staring at him from across a blank canvas of time, those crystal blue eyes uncommonly unreadable to the approaching redhead. He blinked, cocking his head as he stepped closer towards him, freezing as the clean, stark plane surrounding them crackled and shook, fading into an ominous, deep red. Kyle looked over towards his lover in fright, the new portentous hue lathering Kenny's hair like blood atop sand, dripping down his foggy eyes. "Ken!" he tried again._

_The blonde shook his head, taking a step back from him. Kyle flinched as an array of lithe, white feathers flew from behind Kenny, racing around the glowing wasteland. A swarm rushed towards him and he held his arms in front of his face, a baseless wind assaulting his eyes. He squinted, right eye beginning to lose its vision. "Kenny!" His voice echoed around the both of them, his syllables drowning in the incessant rustle swirling about him like an EF5._

_Kyle grunted, trying to push through the torrent before being shoved backwards by a powerful force, landing on his side and curling into himself as the feathers continued to pelt him. "Ken, help!" he pleaded, looking from between his arms to see Kenny continuing to take slow steps away from him. "KEN!" he screamed in terror as the number seemed to increase, Kenny's translucent, dead eyes never breaking from his own, never blinking. Kyle whimpered, hiding his face and curling into a ball, hissing as his attackers began swiftly slicing through his clothing and skin in threadbare lines._

_Why wouldn't he_ _**help** _ _him?!_

" _Please!" he shouted, voice muffled in his pasty skin. He groaned as a new pain took hold, braving the storm enough to glance up, his eyes widening at a wound on his left arm, puss-filled and oozing. Long, purple smears dripped to the ground from it like oil, collating atop the carmine floor. He coughed as a rancid stench took over the air, the feathers surrounding him doing nothing more than trapping the smell inside the vortex. Kyle gasped, forcing himself back onto his feet, uninjured arm still shielding over his eyes as he stared blearily at the wound. He cried out as skin, mottled like moonlight splaying through trees, began peeling off, dropping to the floor with a heavy, wet sound._

" _KENNY!" he screamed once more, heart slipping through his chest as he realized through his skewed vision just how far from him the blonde had stepped. He took a deep breath, wincing at deeper gashes beginning to be sliced into him. Kyle trembled, lowering his arm a bit and trying to find a way forward. A glimmer caught his peripheral and he turned, frozen in shock as one lone feather, straight and true, made way for his exposed throat._

He lurched up with a sweated gasp, falling back onto the floor with a heavy thud. He groaned, curling on his side and trying to ignore the pins and needles trying to resuscitate his numbed right arm. A quick tug of the left revealed his still-bound wrists and he sighed irritatedly. He lied his head back on the floor, staring straight ahead of him at the broken door with glazed over eyes. _'Leave it to me to be in Hell for this long and only_ _ **now**_ _get a fucking nightmare,'_ he thought dully.

The redhead heaved another heavy sigh, wincing at his arm going through spasms and trying to work his fingers from their awkward position. He slowly sat himself back upright, his eyes clenching shut as the feeling of his toxic blood began to reemerge. The more sickening part of him couldn't help but wonder if it was completely eating away at his insides, if he'd be nothing but a hollow husk for Damien to pull around as he pleased. The notion made him shudder with nausea. He was _enough_ of a puppet by Damien's fucking hand. He didn't need to make himself envision a complete loss on his part.

He bit into his gag, trying to ignore the torrent of pained feelings rocketing through him once again. His focus instead dropped to his stomach, which growled and cramped uncomfortably. He was so goddamn _hungry_. He listlessly fought up onto his knees, trying to pull himself free. His shoulder cracked a bit in his movement and he yelped, a shudder running down his spine. He sat back on his knees, rapidly blinking his eyes and trying to come back into complete consciousness and beat the remnants of lost sleep back to the shore.

His fangs chewed against his gag, gaze mindlessly wandering about his prison. He glanced out his door, seeing far in the distance a group of mortals meandering about towards wherever their destination was. He instantly recalled the pure terror, the absolute _consternation_ that he'd instilled upon so many faces and cringed into himself. What if that's all he was? Just another minion of Hell under Damien?

A flicker of that pure, icy stare of his imagination fluttered through once again, making his chest tightening even worse. A wire seemed to be wrapping around his neck like a noose, seeing Kenny walking away from him like that. He would _never_ do that, demon or not...Right? Kyle sunk down into himself in a heady dismay. It wasn't exactly something they'd discussed in the past, but Kyle could only assume that so long as he was still some form of Kyle, Kenny was still bound to love him. After all, he was still in love with Kenny despite learning about how he's a goddamn _immortal_. It seemed only fair for him to return the favor, right?

Although...Kyle sighed. This wasn't the same. Kenny was still Kenny regardless of his dying spells. Kyle wasn't mortal anymore. He didn't know _what_ he was, but he refused to call himself a demon. That was absolutely out of the question. Demons were monsters. They only wanted to hurt, to betray, to destroy. That was _not_ Kyle's MO and he'd be selling himself awfully short if he let Damien think that he could turn him into such a bloodthirsty creature, that much he was confident of.

He scowled all he could from the material shoved in his mouth. Damien had to be wrong. If there was a way to turn him _into_ a demon, then there had to be a way to change him back, right? Kenny himself had taught Kyle that _nothing_ is absolute. Nothing is permanent. He wasn't about to fall into the easy trap of thinking that Damien had destroyed his only chance of having a normal life. Falling for Kenny had made it fairly obvious that the typical uniformity of life wasn't his intended path anyway.

Kyle growled, body kicking in with energy as he thought of his blonde and wrapping slack from his chains around his hands, scooting back on his knees. He planted a shoe against the wall, wincing in pain but pressing himself outwards. He mumbled a slew of curses at the chain as he continued to exert pressure, growling at the lack of budge. _'Come_ _ **on**_ _, you son of a-'_ His thought cut short as his shoe slipped against the ebony stone, sending him in a twisted pile back onto the ground. He groaned in aggravation, glaring at the wall in front of him.

Why couldn't he get out? Why the hell weren't his powers working? He needed to figure out _something_ to get away from here, glancing around for something to use. His mind fleeted to Kenny teaching him years beforehand how to slip out of handcuffs with a small metal shiv.

" _How the hell did you learn this, Ken?"_ he'd asked suspiciously.

Kenny had pouted in a way that Kyle would never admit he found adorable, but he always found himself just wanting to hold Kenny's pathetic face in his hands and kiss him. _"It wasn't nothin' illegal, I promise. I just like magic stuff,"_ he'd said. A pause and a lecherous grin. _"...Like your ass."_ Kyle nestled down into himself, closing his eyes fondly to the memory of the laughter Kenny had belted out when Kyle started smacking him with one of their pillows.

Kyle had just shaken his head once Kenny calmed down, _"Why do you want to show me this, Dude?"_

Kenny had shrugged, turning the redhead to face the headboard and clasping his cuffs around Kyle's slender wrists. _"Always a possibility that I die somehow and you're chained up, Ky. You can't be stuck for a day waiting for me t' getcha out. I'm teaching you how to get out of everything I can possibly do to you."_

" _Well you could always_ _ **not**_ _tie me up,"_ he'd teased, looking behind him over his shoulder, just wanting to see the pure monotony floating over the typically energetic blonde's face.

Kenny had looked at him with that pout turned up nearly in pure distaste. _"You'd hate me if I did that and you damn well know it. Now shut your mouth and work the shiv."_

" _Yes, Master,"_ he'd rolled his eyes.

Kenny smirked, grabbing his head and turning it back a little further before leaning forward and kissing him, _"Bout time you got my name right."_

Kyle blinked himself out of his anamnesis, noting unwarranted tears dripping down his cheeks. He beat his head softly against the stone beneath him. This was unbelievable. He never knew he _needed_ someone so much. He always thought himself so damn independent, able to do anything on his own and Kenny was just along for the ride. But as his fists clenched lightly and the tips of razor-sharp claws pressed against his palm, it was abundantly clear: He needed the blonde. He needed him to swoop in like that cliche hero that Kenny painted himself as the night he left Kyle by himself. Whether or not the blonde had merely been teasing that night was far displaced in Kyle's mind, his imagination going on its own to Kenny in his old Mysterion outfit, angel wings carrying him down and breaking him out of his chains and taking him away from Damien's clutches. He'd hold him, he'd kiss him, he'd tell him it didn't matter what he was, that he was _still Kyle_ and he still loved him.

He so desperately needed to hear that.

A rustling noise outside his door perked his ears, dragging him away from Kenny, and he rolled his eyes. Probably Gragor just staring at him angrily again. He let his face twist into a scowl and shot his head over, his heart leaping into his throat as he found his guest. Deep mahogany eyes set beyond a scarred muzzle gaped at him emptily, a long, pink tongue dripping with lethal saliva hung out as he panted. Sharp, gleaming teeth stood out, partially shadowed and all the more menacing as he stood silhouetted against the outside light.

Kyle's breath quickened into a near-hyperventilating pattern. He clumsily swung himself up onto his knees again, backing up against the wall. Valefor sniffed the air a bit before stepping into the prison, eyes still set on the redhead. Kyle let out a long, muffled whine, red irises glimmering in utter terror. He shook his head violently as Valefor edged ever closer, nose bouncing slightly as he sniffed towards the trapped man trying so desperately to sink back into the protection of the wall. He needed to fucking get himself _out_.

As the massive threat loomed closer, Kyle let out a long, stifled scream, his eyes bursting with light. He flew forward as the chains around him snapped clean off. He caught himself on his hands and gasped at Valefor hovering over him, sniffing his hair. He cringed, hiding his face in his scarred arms and awaiting the inevitable bite. When several moments passed without one, Kyle swallowed his fear and peeked up, raising his brow at the dog lying in front of him, staring at him curiously.

The redhead shakily lowered his defense, reaching up and slowly grabbing his gag, tearing it out with as much ease as ripping petals off a flower. He took a few deep, wavering breaths, looking at Valefor still watching him, his large head cocked. "Can I help you?" he rasped out.

The dog resumed panting, scooching itself up in front of him and lying his head down on his massive paws, those deep red eyes never faltering from Kyle's. The Jew narrowed his vision in confusion before a sudden recollection made him nearly recoil. "You can smell Damien in me," he whispered, watching the monster carefully. He gulped, reaching forward with a lethargic, cautious hand and placing it atop Valefor's head. The dog's ears perked as Kyle slowly scratched the spot, bumping his head up to encourage more.

Kyle let out a long sigh of relief. "Guess you don't mind non-humans, huh?" he asked softly. He watched as Valefor stood and moved beside his right side, sitting down. Kyle blinked, looking up and taking a deep breath. "Damn. You're big," he commented as the dog hovered nearly a head above him. "Hard to notice size when you're getting tossed around the fuckin' dirt, ya know," he said sarcastically.

Valefor leaned down and slowly licked over a bite mark still prominently standing in the light. Kyle looked from the shimmering scars to him and smirked. "Guess you're smarter than an Earth dog, hm?" Valefor just stared blankly at him and the man sighed, getting up onto his knees and nearly matching the dog's height. He looked between his chains and his rawly stained wrists, twisting his lips in thought. "How did I do that?" he asked aloud, glancing at the dog who continued merely staring. Their red eyes stayed locked in one another's until Kyle finally broke the silence, "Guess Damien has to tell me, doesn't he?"

Valefor leaned down and licked his face and Kyle cringed, wiping the drool from his cheek. "Fuckin' thanks. Slobbering mutt," he grumbled. "This is why I wouldn't let Ken have a dog..." He trailed off with a sigh. He placed a trembling hand on Valefor's withers, using his sturdy form for support as he worked his way onto his feet. He groaned, shaking his legs and hopping in place a bit to get his nerves once again moving.

He glanced towards the door, raising his brow at the lack of Gragor popping in. "Hey, Shiny douche!" he called, awaiting a sneer. He cocked his head, making his way to the doorway and glancing outside, looking on both sides for any sign of Damien's little lackey and finding it to be deserted. "Maybe he finally got a fucking life," he huffed. He turned to Valefor, jolting a little finding the dog standing beside him, his head up to his waist. "Jesus. I stand corrected. You're _huge_ ," he laughed breathlessly, placing his hand down on the dog's head once again. He mindlessly scratched his ear, sharp eyes swooping across the land in front of them.

"Let's go find that asshole," Kyle muttered angrily. "Bastard thinks he can chain me up and not get punched in the fucking face, well, I got news for him," he snarled. "C'mon," he stepped off into the glowing red light of Hell, Valefor right at his side.


	21. By the Nile

**Amid disquieting thoughts from the visions of the night, When deep sleep falls on men, Dread came upon me, and trembling, And made all my bones shake. Then a spirit passed by my face; The hair of my flesh bristled up.** _**-Job 4:13-16** _

_Standing alone in a bountiful field, he glanced around through amber stalks of wheat pleasantly swaying in the wind. He blinked, eyes raising upwards to a lavender-soaked twilight sky, strands of pink clouds dusting about like lines of chalk._

_A rustle invaded the dancing strands above him and he looked back down, seeing bright, lush ember curls and shining green eyes. His heart stopped and a relief flittered over his body that he wasn't aware that he could feel anymore. "Kyle?" he whimpered. The redhead smiled that loving smile, the one that kept him going regardless of circumstance. Kenny grinned so widely his cheeks hurt as he rushed over, hopping over the plants and kicking up dirt as Kyle waited patiently for him._

_He reached the man and threw his arms around his frail form, choking back a sob into his hair. He took a deep breath and shuddered, cinnamon and coffee leaking off of Kyle in a much-needed congenial scent; the smell of home. Kyle's arms wrapped back around him, fingers digging into his shirt and holding him tightly. "Oh God, Ky," Kenny whispered, peppering kisses around his head and down the side of his face. Kyle was silent, merely smiling and nuzzling into his shoulder. "I got you, I got you," he babbled desperately, clinging onto the smaller man tighter._

" _I know," he whispered, bringing a hand up and cusping the side of Kenny's face, fingers lightly tracing through his glowing hair. A pause in the air perked Kenny's ears and he narrowed his eyes. He raised his head off of Kyle's glancing around at the stalks still swaying in now-silent brushes against their legs. He looked down at the redhead and nearly jumped back in surprise at glowing red eyes staring up at him. "But so does he," Kyle said blankly._

_Kenny's mouth fumbled for a response before a rush of color caught his eye. He looked up in fright at a multitude of bright red vines shooting from beyond the field and rushing towards them. He yelped, trying to grab Kyle and run off, the redhead's feet firmly planted on the ground. Kyle smiled sadly and shook his head, Kenny's stomach lurching as streams of blood began running from his tear ducts. "I'm sorry," he mouthed._

" _No, no, don't be sorry," he said hurriedly, trying to pry him away. "Just move, just run!" He yelled in frustration as a swarm of the vines descending on them, grabbing Kyle around the waist and arms and beginning to wrest him from his tight grip. "Kyle, FIGHT!" he screamed, shoes planting in the dirt and trying to hold his lover down as the strands began to lift him above his height._

" _Shhh," Kyle whispered, leaning down and kissing his lips softly, the blood from his eyes dripping between their mouths. He pulled back, a complete calmness over his stare that had Kenny's heart thrown into a raging fit. "Let go."_

" _No," he said firmly, gritting his teeth and trying to rip the strands from off of him._

" _Kenny, let_ _ **go**_ _," he repeated._

_He shook his head frantically, bashing one fist against the restraints while the other arm remained wrapped solidly around Kyle's thin waist. His feet dragged underneath him, stumbling through piles of soil. Kenny glanced down as something smacked into his leg, stomach dropping at a swarm of bugs overtaking the field, the golden beams shadowed by slimy pests. "Kyle, please!" he begged._

_He let out a long winded cry as blood began seeping over Kyle's captive form, running from his back and dripping down onto Kenny's terrified face. The tranquil look in Kyle's eyes was familiar to the blonde despite the change of hue: He was hurt, but he wasn't going to show it. "Ken..." he whispered, leaning down and resting his forehead against the struggling blonde. "I'm waiting," he finished before a large rip from the vines tore him from Kenny's grasp._

_The blonde fell on the ground, jumping up and brushing bugs off his face. He watched in horror as Kyle was limply jolted back through the air, his feet kicking into gear and sending him screaming after him. "KYLE! FIGHT GODDAMMIT, FIGHT!" he pleaded. Sound suddenly kicked back into the world, drowning out his sorrowful cries in a deafening tone of wind and billions of wings buzzing about. "KYLE!" he tried again, losing sight as the swarm overtook the pastoral sky, encasing him in a land of black that he continued to blindly run through. He beat the pests out of his way, becoming disoriented in the chaos as he tried to find a way to his redhead. He screamed, arms thrashing wildly as he tried to find his way out of the mess, eyes flickering about perilously as the bugs seemed to close in on him. The sound made his head throb, his fear made him sick, the entire world seemed to be crumbling under his feet._

His eyes flew open and a whimper escaped his throat, gaze darting around worriedly as he found himself panting precariously. "Kenneth?" a voice broke through his sleepy delusion. "Are you all right?" He groaned, hands flying up to rub his eyes. He shook his head, squinting behind his hands at the sunlight peeking through his fingers."Kenneth, come on," the voice urged.

He slowly lowered his protection and sniffled, finding Jegudiel sitting beside him on the ground with a concerned look on his face. "Kyle?" he asked brokenly, still trying to gather his thoughts.

The archangel's face fell pitiably and he shook his head. "No, Kenneth. He's not here."

"Must have been some dream," Raphael piped in. "You're trembling like a newborn fawn." Kenny gulped, sitting up straighter and sniffling tiredly.

"It was horrible," he rasped, rubbing his head. "His eyes were bleeding and...and there were bugs everywhere and he told me to just let him..." he trailed off, shaking his head, blonde hair bouncing along with him and clenching his eyes shut, trying to escape the remnants of such a horrific vision he could feel still lingering in the air.

Jegudiel cleared his throat, "Well, maybe that'll teach you not to sleep during training sessions," he teased lightly.

"Sorry," he mumbled, trying to shake away those bloody eyes from his mind.

"You're fine," Raphael assured him, patting his shoulder lightly. "We know you haven't been getting much rest these past few months."

He sighed, nodding slowly, "Tell me about it." It was true. It had been far too often that Kenny had drifted off only to find himself flailing about screaming for Kyle. It was becoming less of a nuisance and more of a habit at this point, and he couldn't _wait_ for the damn pattern to be broken. He looked around and found themselves on the viewing balcony, raising his brow. "Wait, why are we here again?"

"You were _supposed_ to be watching Barachiel and Selaphiel," Jegudiel rolled his eyes. "You know, _learning_ and whatnot?"

He raised his brow, forcing a smile on his troubled face. "'Ay. I don't lecture you on your trainin' methods, Jay, so don't be judgin' me on my osmosis technique."

"Osmosis?" Raphael repeated with a small smirk.

He nodded, laughing sadly. "Ky would say that when I'd try to teach him something about a damn car so he wouldn't be stranded on the interstate and he'd fall asleep. 'Course I did the same with him and his history crap. Give-take, ya know," he shrugged casually.

Jegudiel snorted, "Sounds like a _great_ way to live. Unable to talk to each other without passing out."

"Hey, the person who was victimized got a 'I'm sorry' blowjob every time so it wasn't that bad," he held up his hand defensively. "'Sides, I'm _pretty_ sure Ky faked being asleep now and again just to get us to the good stuff."

"And you didn't?" Raphael questioned doubtfully.

He leaned forward, stretching with a snarky grin. "Neeever said that." The two beside him snorted and shook their heads. "So, what are Sel and Bar up to? The hell am I supposed to be learning here?" Ken asked, looking down to see the two of them clashing against one another, maneuvering quickly about.

"Footwork," Raphael answered.

"Againnnn?" he groaned, putting his face in his hands.

The angel patted his shoulder, "I know, I know. But these two are the best of us at moving quickly on the field while utilizing their powers. So watch their technique and we can try to apply it into your own work."

Kenny rolled his eyes, leaning his palm into his hand as he observed. "Wow. Move one foot and then the other. Thrilling," he muttered.

"Ken, focus," he smacked his head lightly. "Watch how Barachiel glides across the surface," he pointed. "His powers need him to be fast and light on his feet." Kenny raised his brow and Raphael smirked. "He harnesses lightening, Ken."

"Oh," he replied dumbly. "Why isn't he using it?"

Jegudiel shrugged, "He needs more focus on his swordsmanship as of now. He'll use it once you train with him, trust me."

"Lucky lucky me," he chuckled. "What about Sel?" he jerked his head towards the brunette.

"His powers are of binding, he can control an infinite chain," Jegudiel answered.

Kenny smirked lightly, "Kinky."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "See how he moves though? His steps are hard and grounded but still allow him a simple pivot. He isn't the fastest of us, but the most effective. He needs to have stance to be able to capture his enemies." Kenny shuddered, a flashback of those damn ruby vines stealing his fiancé invading his thoughts once again.

"So, what am _I_ supposed to be?" He half-whined. "Hard or soft? Because I'm much better at the former, trust me," he smirked cheekily.

Raphael rolled his eyes and sighed. "That depends on a lot of factors, Ken. It depends on if you can utilize your power while in motion or not. You're not experienced enough to know for sure as of yet."

The blonde pouted, "Lame."

"Lame or not, that's just the way it is right now," Jegudiel shrugged. "You'll get there. Once we balance you out, we'll be able to judge just what method you should be using."

His lips twisted a bit, "This is like fucking _school_. Thought I was done with that shit," he sighed irritably, falling onto his back and staring above him with glazed eyes. "God I'm so sick of this," he mumbled. "I just wanna go home."

They looked at him pitiably, "We know," Jegudiel said softly. "A few more months and you can."

"And Kyle will be with you," Raphael promised softly.

Kenny bit his lip, hearing that damn familiar voice ringing in his ears yet again: _"Let go"_. Let go of _what_? The war? His anger? Kyle himself? He just didn't know, mind flittering to all sorts of possibilities and most of them leaving him with an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. It was just _too fucking much_.

"Raphael, Jegudiel, Kenneth," a voice called softly. The three of them looked up to see Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel landing in front of them, another angel at their side. Michael raised his brow, "Kenneth, I don't think lying down is very helpful to your training."

"You don't know me," he scoffed playfully, turning over and hopping onto his feet, the other two following suit. Raphael turned, motioning down into the arena for Selaphiel and Barachiel to come up. Kenny looked at the unfamiliar angel on the end, standing there with soot on his face and arms, wings crested with a deep ebony glow. He cocked his brow and Gabriel chuckled.

"Kenneth, this is Nathaneal," he motioned to the noirette. "We dollied him up like a demon and sent him to gather information on Hell."

He nodded at the newcomer, "Spy, nice. Please tell me that Damien caught Super AIDS and is dying a slow, horrible death."

"No such luck I'm afraid," he smiled sadly. "Though, I do have a bit of good news." He looked at Selaphiel and Barachiel as they landed, giving them small nods. He cleared his throat at the archangels waiting expectantly as they stood in a circle amongst one another. "His plan to take mortals and integrate them into his army is falling through," he informed them. "It takes too long for them to cleanse the souls for possession, he'll only be able to gather perhaps 2,000 more soldiers by the time of attack."

Michael smiled gratefully, letting out a long sigh of relief. "Our chances certainly seem better in that light. I'll happily take that as opposed to the estimated ten billion enemies storming the gate."

Kenny crossed his arms, blinking thoughtfully. "You think he'll call off the war since the odds suck so much?"

Uriel shook his head, "No. Demons are far too arrogant to let go of their goal, and Damien is the worst of them all." He flickered his eyes to the blonde knowingly and Kenny shot him a shady, steel-laced glare right back.

"However," Nathaneal continued, capturing their attention yet again, "Damien is confident in what he calls 'his secret weapon'."

"Kyle," Kenny said softly, heart aching. "He means Kyle."

The angel nodded solemnly, "I believe so, yes." He shifted uncomfortably, "I was there when they found the spell. Damien and Satan were arguing over the logistics...He wants to send Kyle to kill you."

"Yeah we figured as much," he muttered.

"And he plans to keep him for himself in the aftermath," he finished quietly.

Kenny's face fell worriedly. Damien had said it himself but he figured that was just to scare him. He never expected Damien to _mean_ it. "Why?" he whispered. "What else is Kyle good for with these powers except to kill me?"

He shrugged, pity in his faux-red stare. "I don't know," he responded honestly. "Damien himself didn't have any reason except wanting to 'torture you even in death'," he quoted before pausing and letting out a long breath. "But...I think there's something else. I don't know what, but the whole situation just feels rather..."

"Off," Gabriel finished in a murmur. Nathaneal nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Nathaneal," Michael piqued up. "This is, well, the first part is wonderful news. As for the rest..." he bit his lip, looking to see Kenny staring at the cloud below their feet, mind obviously frenzied trying to figure out Damien's plans for his fiancé. "We'll figure it out," he said softly. "Continue the good work," he smiled.

Nathaneal gave a small, respectable bow, turning and taking off into the air. Kenny watched after him, blinking rapidly. "Wait!" he called, hopping off on his own after the figure. The remainder observed him knowingly, faces wrought with empathy. Nathaneal stopped in midair and Kenny caught up, hovering in front of him. "Can I ask you a favor?" he questioned meekly.

He smiled, "Kenneth, I'm under you. You don't have to _ask_ a thing. Say it and it is done."

"Yeah, okay, first off then, call me Ken," he frowned. "Second...If you can, find Kyle," he winced. "Find Kyle and...and see if he's safe. Please?" he begged.

"Of course," he nodded.

He licked over his lips, "And if you can, and I won't be mad if Damien has him under such tight wraps that you can't," he assured him, "talk to him. Let him know that I'm gonna get him out. Please. A-and tell him I love him?" he sniffled.

Nathaneal nodded with a melancholy smile. "I will do all I can, I promise you, Ken. Working around Gragor may be a trick though," he offered a small smirk.

He rolled his eyes, "I always hated that shiny fucker." He looked back at the chuckling noirette, "Thank you."

"Not at all," he bowed his head and turned, heading off quickly towards Peter's gate. Kenny watched after him, his heart bubbling with hope. This was his chance to let Kyle know that he _was_ still up here. Still fighting for him, still more than willing to skin Damien alive piece by piece if it meant getting him back safely. He thought of those red eyes, feeling those bugs crawling about his skin once more and he shuddered. _'Sorry, Ky,'_ he took a deep breath. _'I ain't lettin' go of you so easily.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally feel it necessary to warn you that I planned this story out. And it's going to be 51 chapters.
> 
> So if you wanna turn around from this monster no hard feelings, yo. If you stick around you're a stronger soul than I.
> 
> Aside from that, thanks so much for the continued support of this story! I'm having so much fun and I hope you guys are, too!


	22. Vice or Virtue

**You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth, And called from its remotest parts And said to you, 'You are My servant, I have chosen you and not rejected you. -** _**Isaiah 41:9** _

There was something unsettlingly _alluring_ as he walked through the bowels of the underworld. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was the gradient sky splashed with orange and red like a constant sunset. Maybe it was how his and Valefor's steps sounded against the ashy ground, kicking up charcoal in a soft scraping rhythm. Or maybe he was just trying to distract himself from his current situation, trying to find a shred of hope in the mess that he'd become. Kyle's eyes narrowed as some unknown force led him along. He wasn't quite sure just _what_ it was, but something kept moving him in a certain direction, just left to a towering pillar of blackened smoke. He scrunched his nose, able to smell it even from the distance. The whiff of disease, flesh, and blood did not make for a pleasant smell to stroll along to.

Valefor kept at his side, occasionally dropping his head to sniff the ground as they meandered about towards whatever Kyle's destination was. The redhead looked down at the massive canine and twisted his lips a bit. "So what the hell are you followin' me for?" he asked. "Aren't you Damien's?" he rolled his eyes. Valefor made a small grunting noise at his voice, nose bopping his swinging palm beside him. Kyle quirked his brow, placing his hand on the dog's head much to Valefor's content. The man was baffled to say the very least. This dog had ripped him apart, nearly made him fall unconscious. Hell, he was the catalyst to his poisoning. Why the _hell_ was it so friendly with him all of a sudden? Damien's blood or not, he still smelled like Kyle...right? He shuddered, wondering if he'd indeed picked up the smell of the demon. A constant stench of iron and brimstone leaked off of Damien constantly, made the Jew sick to his stomach. Either way though, he knew well enough dogs were smarter than that. Hell, Sparky still ran after him even as much as Kyle was over at Stan's house before he'd passed on. That dog had a vendetta against anyone that was not of the Marsh name, and regardless if he was stealing Stan's shirt that day and smelling like him or not, he was getting a nip on the hand. He sighed, scratching behind Valefor's ear as he continued leading them onwards. He supposed it didn't matter. So long as the dog wasn't trying to eat him again then that was fine in Kyle's book.

His eyes flickered to various spots populated with mortals and demons alike. More than once he'd caught someone's stare, and regardless of species, a gleam of hate and terror lingered within. The demons he was perfectly fine with that, the more afraid they were, the more likely they were to stay away. But the _mortals_? Kyle pouted, looking at his free hand, red eyes drifting over his pentagram lazily. Powers or not, Kyle knew he still _looked_ the same, at least stature wise. Being fucking well under six feet tall and, as Kenny loved to put it, skinny as a fucking dildo made him the last on the list of intimidating figures. Sure, people he _knew_ knew not to mess with him, they'd seen the mess he'd made of Cartman their senior year and did not want any part of that. But these people were strangers. Most of them were larger than himself with actual muscle. But there they were, cowering into each other, grown men holding onto one another in the collective fear.

Some deep-seated proud part of Kyle half-wanted to beam at such a feat, his puny self making others shrink into each other. But he knew this wasn't right. These people weren't afraid of his stature or how well he could throw a punch. They were afraid of the claws and fangs, the power lurking within him bubbling through his veins in rivers of fire. He vaguely wondered what they would do if he was his normal state. Just yell that there was a stray-away from the group? Be jealous that he wasn't being punished like they were? Given he'd know that his torment was far worse than what they were suffering, but they wouldn't exactly be aware. Maybe they'd just be envious that he wasn't dead. The thought made him recoil a bit. _Was_ he dead? Maybe he was undead? He bit his lip, cursing as he yet again let a fang slice the skin and rolling his eyes at himself.

Damien said demons can't _kill_ other demons, so that had to mean he was alive. Or some variation of it. He certainly didn't _feel_ very full of life, given that'd been his last three months or so, but still. He sighed and Valefor bumped his hand, staring at him with those deep eyes. "This sucks," he said simply down to him. "I don't know what species I am or even if I'm alive or _anything_." He leaned his head back and stared at the blotchy sky as they continued onwards. "This sucks," he repeated. He felt a tongue pass over his palm and looked back down with a small smirk. "You're not horrible when you're not trying to kill me I guess," he chuckled quietly. Valefor merely tongued over his nose, turning his head back to the forefront.

Kyle shook his head, looking to see that they'd come closer to the towering smoke. He tapped Valefor's head a bit, leading him more towards the side as they continued to walk past it. Kyle's eyes widened at the sight, several demons prancing about, feeding the flames. Mortals being shoved into it, screaming with such _horrible_ pitches of agony. His mouth gaped a bit as the demons reached back in, snagging their victims back out who were sobbing, skin and hair burnt enough that the damage was evident, but the suffering was something they'd have to stave through consciously. "Jesus," he whispered, turning his head as a woman was thrown back in kicking and screaming. "C'mon," he urged, picking up his pace and limping away, using Valefor as his sturdy guide.

The looks on their faces were indescribable. Kyle had seen _more_ than his fair share of such looks. More often than not they came from Kenny as yet another death stole him away. He shuddered at the particularly horrid memory of Kenny tripping down into a construction site while they'd been walking home together. A steamroller crushing him from the legs up and the screams that he let out haunted Kyle more often than he cared to admit. He never let Kenny know how that affected him; How he went home and vomited and cried until he literally passed out on the bathroom floor. He knew Kenny would always come back to him, but that didn't make watching such a horrible event any easier. Kenny had found him the next morning, thinking he'd just drank too much again and doing his best to help Kyle nurse a non-existent hangover. But Kyle just refused to let go of him that day, refused to let himself believe that only twelve hours before hand, he'd watched his then-boyfriend's lungs being squeezed out through his head as every bit of him was compressed out like a tube of toothpaste. Death was never something he was comfortable around, never something that he admired. Even watching these strangers was just too much for him to handle, his empty stomach churning uneasily.

He kept his eyes on Valefor, who was so nonchalantly strolling by the carnage. Kyle wasn't exactly surprised. He was a goddamn _Hell_ hound after all. He swallowed his insecurity and straightened himself out a bit, continuing to let himself be led about by this force. He almost couldn't put a finger on what it was. It was like it was tugging his very _soul_ , like a strong intuition. Kyle prided himself on having fantastic instincts, even though they seemed to have fallen flat on their face when Damien kidnapped him. But even so, this time it felt different. Longer lasting, like it wasn't so much intuition, but knowledge itself. He tongued over his lips as he and the dog came up to a large spot of land dotted with a few trees. Kyle's sharp eye caught Damien right off in the distance and he raised his brow. Was _he_ what was pulling him in?

He growled under his breath. "Stay," he whispered to Valefor, putting his hand up. The dog sat obediently, watching with a cocked head as Kyle began creeping along through the trees, hiding behind various trunks and watching as he neared closer to the noirette. He caught a glimpse of Gragor and couldn't help a reflexive curl of the lip. He turned his attention back to his target, red eyes glimmering with promise. If there was _anything_ that Kyle knew he was, it was sneaky and quick. It was the best way he'd been able to learn how to fight over the years since pure mass was never an option for him. He crept closer and closer still, his light footwork gliding across the stones seamlessly. His tongue mindlessly passed over his fangs, more than ready for the impending fight.

He finally found himself at the tree seated closest to the anti-christ and took a deep breath, crouching a bit. Damien and Gragor were deep in conversation, the noirette's back to him. He could take him down, knock him off guard, slash Gragor's throat, and redirect all his attention onto his goddamn captor. He nodded to himself, claws digging subtly into the bark in anticipation. _'One...Two...'_ he counted himself down, beating down any possible apprehension. _'Three!'_

He leapt from behind the tree, taking a large jump towards Damien and flying towards his back, claws in front of him and ready to strike. He made a small whimpering sound as Damien never turned, his arm moving back in Kyle's direction. The Jew tried to stop his momentum, unable to do so as he landed right in Damien's hand, the demon catching his throat and smoothly throwing him down in front of the two monsters. He slid on his hip and groaned, trembling as he sat up on the sides of his legs and looked at the smirking, towering figures.

"Really?" Damien questioned. "Come now, Little one, you have to do _better_ than that," he taunted. He glanced over at Gragor and chuckled. "I told you he'd find his way out. You get to deal with my job tomorrow now," he grinned.

Gragor shook his head amusedly, "Never thought such a pathetic weakling would figure out something so vital."

"Say that to my face, Fucktard," Kyle scowled, getting onto pained, shaky legs. "I'll take you on right fucking here," he pointed to the ground confidently.

"Isn't that cute, Gragor?" Damien cooed. "Princess thinks that she's a tough little cookie, doesn't she?"

"Fuck off," he growled in warning.

He chuckled at Kyle's beaming face, turning back to his companion. "Gragor, you're dismissed from your duties with him. Work on your training. Go on," he waved him off.

"Yes, My lord." he bowed quickly, giving Kyle a superior, snobbish glare before turning and taking flight. Damien watched him for a bit before turning back to the still-flustered redhead.

"Problem, Little one?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm going to rip off his head and feed it to you before I kill you," he promised.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure. Considering you came at my back and _still_ couldn't get a hit in." Kyle crossed his arms, glaring at him still. They both looked as Valefor came walking over, sitting down beside Kyle. Damien raised an amused brow, "Well look at that. Princess made a friend."

"Yeah, mind telling your mutt that I'm not you?" he demanded.

He shrugged casually, "Valefor likes anything that he doesn't kill. There's a reason he's not one of the pack leaders. Hell, he's the runt."

Kyle blinked, looking at the massive canine panting beside him and back to Damien. "The _runt_?" he repeated.

He smirked, jerking his head at the dog. "See the scar? His big sister gave him that. He tried to get out of his place and got taught his lesson..." he grinned smugly, "I guess you can relate to that, can't you, Princess?" Kyle just groaned and rolled his eyes, feeling Valefor bumping against his hip for attention. He looked down at him with a raised brow. Damien snorted, "You gave him special treatment so now he's your problem."

"Excuse me?"

"And you can have him," he waved dismissively. "Little attention whore needs a weakling like you to give him fucking affection," he rolled his eyes.

He narrowed his eyes, "I don't _want_ a fucking demon spawn."

"But...you relate so well," he repeated with a toothy grin as Kyle's face twisted up menacingly. "Besides, I'd figure you'd want something to cry onto," he pouted mockingly. "Since you don't have your _other_ attention whore nearby."

"Look, I'm gettin' _real_ sick of you insulting Kenny," he snapped, stepping closer up in front of him, trying to straighten himself up towards his height. "A mouse shouldn't insult the cat when he's cornered."

"Whose advice is better to follow than your own?" he shot back, leaning down in his face. "Little mouse fell into the trap already, and he just keeps going for the cheese, doesn't he?" he jeered. "Some creatures just never learn."

The redhead's lip curled up, a fang shining in the red lighting surrounding them. "And yet the stupid cat can't actually get a hold of me," he countered, shoving against him a bit.

"Oh really?" he grinned. "Because..." he paused, reaching forward and grabbing Kyle's throat, pulling him up towards himself. The redhead kept his face stoic, a hand grasping around the assaulting wrist and digging in his claws as the demon breathed in his face. "I seem to have a pretty good hold on you now."

"But you don't have the balls to take the _bite_ ," he hissed.

His grin turned sinister, his eyes going half-lidded. " _Don't tempt me_ ," he whispered in a way that made the Jew shudder to himself, refusing to let it show. He tried punching his face with his free hand, easily caught by Damien and held still. They stared at each other in silence, vaguely recognizing Valefor whining and pacing as he watched the two of them, bouncing a bit as he moved in confusion.

Kyle took a deep breath, trying to pull back but unable to, hair standing on end as he felt Damien's thumb subtly tracing over his adam's apple. "How did I find you?" he asked lowly.

"You're part of me," he smirked. "Just as, were I not able to before, I can now find _you_ since I have some of _your_ blood."

Kyle blinked rapidly, "Then why do _you_ still look the same?"

He chuckled, "Because you are the one who laid the foundation for the contract, Little mouse. I have but a _touch_ of your blood since you were the one receiving the brunt of the deal. Just enough so we're bonded, but I have no residual effects aside from now having a dash of mortality flowing through me."

He glared, "And I bet that's just _killing_ you, isn't it? Having part of what you consider to be such a 'weak' race inside of you?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, finally releasing Kyle's throat and pushing him back a bit. "You're different than an ordinary mortal, Little mouse," he smirked. Kyle stared at him, speechlessly uncomfortable with a glitter rushing through Damien's eye. The demon turned and folded his finger. "Come."

"You _better_ have been talking to the dog there," he snarled, snapping back into snarky alert.

"Do you want food or _not_?" he raised his brow. Kyle crossed his arms with a 'hmph', but his screaming stomach soon gave way. He sighed, begrudgingly taking off behind him with Valefor at his hip. Damien chuckled, glancing back behind him. "Good boy," he cooed.

"You can fuck right off," he grumbled, sighing at Valefor's pleas for attention and petting his head yet again. Damien watched the two of them curiously, watching Valefor contentedly relaxing under Kyle's working palm.

He chuckled, "You are of my ranking, Little one, you may walk beside me if you wish," he teased.

"I'd rather eat my own foot," he muttered.

"Well that can be arranged," he shrugged. He slowed his walk until Kyle caught up to his side, smirking down on him. Kyle turned away and huffed, continuing forward, his attitude doing nothing more than throwing Damien's need to win into a whirlwind. "All right, Little one, here's the deal:," he started as he walked beside him. "I am willing to give you a choice."

"Of food?" he raised his brow.

He rolled his eyes, "No, you'll eat whatever I put in front of you. I mean in regards to your training."

"It's not happening," Kyle narrowed his eyes. Damien placed a hand in his curls, ignoring Kyle babbling angrily and trying to bat him away, digging his fingers into the lush hair. Kyle cringed, tears beading his eyes. "LET GO!" he shouted, eyes coming alive and forcing Damien back a few steps.

The demon chuckled, nodding approvingly. "Oh, it is," he purred. "However, being the kind and _generous_ demon that I am, I'm willing to give you an option." He walked back over to the flustered man and cocked his brow. "Either you learn obediently like a good little pest, or I train you with this," he held up his hand and pointed to his pentagram. "I'm willing to let this be less painful for you, Little mouse. You don't have to be eaten, you just need to be willing to let me dictate where you go from here."

Kyle blinked at him, looking between his palm and his devious stare. His fingers mindlessly scratched along Valefor's head, scanning over his options. On one hand, having his veins ripped the fuck out was not exactly pleasant, and when Damien gave him commands, his mind blanked out. He couldn't _plan_ if he was nothing but a doll. But then again...He'd be _giving in_ if he let Damien command him. A familiar rebellion sparked within him, easily beating down his common sense screaming for him to just take the easier route.

"I'm not doing anything for you," he growled. "I'm not about to willingly let you do what you want with me," he spat.

Damien chuckled, shrugging listlessly. "Very well, Princess. I suppose it's for the best, anyway..." he looked at him with a hungry grin that sent Kyle's boiling blood away from his face, paling over and backing closer towards Valefor.

"What...what do you mean?"

He chuckled in a grating tone, one that reminded Kyle far too much of the one Kenny often used while hovering over him and made his jaw tremble. Damien leaned closer to him, watching Kyle's concerned, fluttering eyes and taking a long, heavy breath against his blanched face. "This is just what I was hoping for."


	23. The Light of Life

**It is He who reveals the profound and hidden things; He knows what is in the darkness, And the light dwells with Him. -** _**Daniel 2:22** _

"Focus, Kenneth!" a stern voice called.

He twisted his lips into a scowl and looked to see Jegudiel standing off to the side shaking his head at him. "I'm tryin', gimme a break!" he shouted back. "It ain't a fuckin' spellin' test or somethin', damn!" Jegudiel groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly as Kenny turned back to his target, licking over his lips. He tasted the salt of his sweat and his mind went off on a tangent. Angels could sweat, and for some reason, this was just unsettling. Perhaps because it meant that if he could sweat, he could _bleed_.

He shuddered, shaking his head and focusing on the wooden pole in front of him. He closed his eyes, trying to see Kyle defenseless and scared, praying for Ken's help. Kenny gritted his teeth as instead his head was filled with memories of times quite the opposite of such a scenario. When he broke Cartman's nose for calling them faggots when they made their relationship known. When he managed to pick Stan up and lug him back home after he and Wendy had another infamous breakup and Stan once again found comfort in a whirlwind of Jameson's. He tried desperately to hone in on the vision he'd been shown, seeing Kyle crying, unable to move himself under Damien's thumb. Unfortunately, Kenny's prolific imagination somehow managed to turn that into a goddamn kung-fu movie, envisioning the small redhead breaking free and punching the demon right in his goddamn nose.

"Goddammit!" he shouted, scratching his hair wildly. "Stupid strong Kyle and his stupid strong...strongness!" He let his arms drop and drooped down listlessly, looking over towards the blonde watching him. "Jay, I can't fucking _do it_ ," he whined.

"You _have_ to," he argued, walking over and staring him down firmly. "Kenneth, the _world_ -"

"I KNOW," he interrupted, slapping the post and hissing, shaking off his stinging palm. "World needs me, Kyle needs me, _everyone_ needs me," he rolled his eyes. "It's just _not_ that simple," he said in exasperation, rubbing his jaw tiredly. "Ky's fuckin' tough and my damn brain can't turn off that fucking fact."

They looked up as a break of flapping wings invaded their space, seeing Raphael coming to a gentle landing beside them. "Still having trouble?" he winced.

Kenny nodded guiltily, listlessly grabbing his sword from its hilt and hitting the post lightly with a limp arm. "I told you, this is two decades I'm trying to undo here and it's just...really difficult. I didn't exactly fall for a crybaby, you know," he rolled his eyes.

The elder angels looked at each other, both of their minds racing trying to think of a solution. "Well, has he _ever_ been like that?" Jegudiel asked.

"Not since we were like, in elementary school," he scoffed. "He's had his moments since then but they're so few and far in-between-"

"Like what?" Raphael interjected. Kenny looked up at him in shock and blinked. The angel waved him on, "What kind of moments? Maybe you can focus on _that_ , where you know the ending and don't imagine it going some other way."

Kenny bit his lip in thought, mindlessly smacking his sword onto the pole in a steady rhythm. "He broke his arm two years ago and cried?" he winced. "But...he took himself to the hospital and wouldn't let me help him do anything," he rolled his eyes. "Stupid independent asshole."

"Think harder," Jegudiel urged. "There has to be _some_ instance where he just lost all control."

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "He's pretty good at hanging on to control, trust me..." he wistfully blew his bangs out of his face, dropping his sword to his side. He moved forward, resting his head on his arms atop the target, furrowing his brow in thought.

Raphael tapped his foot, looking up in thought. "Have you two ever split apart?" he asked.

He shook his head, a tiny, proud grin on his face. "Nah, smooth sailin' up to this point...We had a close call once, but that ended when-" he paused, lifting his head off his arms and staring off in front of him blankly.

"When...?" Raphael encouraged.

"When he learned about me dying," he answered softly, blinking lethargically. "When he found out the truth...Holy shit," he murmured.

Jegudiel raised his brow, "What?"

He huffed out a small laugh, "I tried to forget about it because...I-I never saw him look so fucking..." he bit his lip.

"Helpless?" Raphael offered hopefully. The blonde nodded again, biting the knuckle of his index finger. The angels brightened a bit. "What happened? Can you use that?"

Kenny remained silent, staring off into space and taking a deep breath. He'd _forgotten_ what happened all that time ago. He tried to repress every single bit of what he'd done to the poor redhead in that time, only focusing on the fact that he remembered, that he'd be there when he came back to Earth. He closed his eyes, seeing Kyle's eyes red with tears, hearing his voice wavering desperately with his name, and he couldn't help but shudder.

* * *

_**Four years prior** _

Kenny woke up atop his soiled mattress in his childhood home and let out a long groan as he realized he'd been thrown back in the middle of the day, sunlight beaming through his mussed up window. Speckles of dust illuminated about him like glitter as he sat up, running a hand through his hair and smacking his lips. He glanced over towards his clock, seeing it was almost three. He smiled, hopping upright and getting his new body into gear. Kyle's classes ended at two, so at least the blonde had something to wake up to. He slipped on the shoes he'd neglected to wear at the time of his demise and scurried out and down the hallway.

"Hey, Ken!" Karen called from the kitchen table, textbook laid out in front of her.

"Hey, Kiddo," he smirked, walking over and ruffling her hair. "I'm headin' to Kyle's."

She rolled her eyes with a smile, "Big shocker there."

"Ain't it though?" he teased, flicking her arm and heading out towards the living room and subsequently their front door. "I'll see ya 'round." Her goodbyes were cut off by Kenny hurrying out the door and heading across the railroad tracks, rushing the short distance between his and Kyle's house.

After death, Kyle was _always_ his reminder of how great being alive really was. In the year and a half they'd been together, Kenny had found himself relying on Kyle's vitality to get him through his particularly depressive patches as he drifted between this life and the next. He felt better, Kyle got sex and attention, it was just a good deal all around that Kenny couldn't be more grateful for.

He hopped up the Broflovskis' sidewalk, knocking on the door and glancing at the peeling paint around the frame. He looked down as Sheila opened the door and smiled lovingly at him, "Hello, Kenneth."

"Hey, Mrs. B," he grinned, stepping inside and jerking his head towards the stairs. "Ky home?"

She nodded, waving him on. "He does have to study, though, so-"

"So keep it short and sweet, got it," he winked. She nodded approvingly, heading off towards the kitchen and he chuckled to himself. _'Got it. Get Ky to cum in under five minutes. I can do that, Mrs. B,'_ he thought, licking his lips in excitement as he ascended the steps. He walked up to Kyle's door and slowly creaked it open, finding Kyle with his back turned to him hovering over his desk and frantically writing. He smirked, knowing full and well that Kyle was in full-blown distracted study mode. He silently shut the door, releasing the knob ever so slowly. The blonde began creeping up towards his oblivious boyfriend, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboard he knew was three steps from the doorway.

He leaned down by Kyle's neck, "Well, hey there, Sexy," he purred hotly, scraping his teeth against his skin.

"Hi." Kyle muttered, keeping his eyes focused on his work.

Kenny straightened up and blinked, cocking his head. "You didn't jump," he pouted.

"Heard you talking to Ma," he replied dryly. "Whaddya want?"

He crossed his arms childishly, "Well I _wanted_ to see you if that's all right, your highness." Kyle dropped his pen, whirling around and glaring at him over his shoulder. Kenny couldn't help but go completely rigid, knowing that look well enough. He fucked up something _bad_. "Ky?" he asked meekly. "You okay?"

He pushed his chair out and Kenny stumbled back as Kyle stood up and crossed his arms angrily, hip jutting out to the side in the slightest. It was his infamous 'come near me and I'll beat you senseless' pose and Ken wasn't about to take the risk. "You wanna know what _I_ want?" he hissed.

"...A backrub?" he guessed with a wince.

"Answers," he snapped. Kenny blinked at him confusedly and the redhead took a deep, angry breath through his nose. "Why do you keep fucking abandoning me?!" he demanded.

He raised his brow, "The fuck are you-"

"You realize that I went to Karen's play _alone_ last night, right?" he snarled. Kenny's jaw dropped slowly as he rattled on, "Yeah. That's creepy to other people for one thing, Ken since I'm not her fucking family and had to give her a ride home! For another, I had to fucking comfort her while she sobbed her eyes out because her dickhead big brother decided he had _better_ things to do."

"K-Kyle..." he stammered, head whirling with what was happening. Karen certainly didn't remember, how the fuck did _he_?

"You shut up and you let me talk, you fuck!" he pointed at him furiously, green eyes alit with a rage usually reserved for the likes of Cartman. Kenny nodded briskly, still trying to keep his head on straight. "You do this all the time!" he shouted. "Where the living _fuck_ do you go?! Are you fucking around with someone else?!" he demanded.

"God, no!" he insisted. "Ky-"

"Shut **up** ," he repeated. Kenny gulped, taking a step back from the tremoring redhead. "Do you know how many dates I've ended up waiting for you for hours?" he pressed, furious expression slowly dropping into hurt. "How many times I've waited here or gone to your house at night when we _planned_ to meet?! I mean, _fuck_ am I that unimportant that you can't make a fucking two hour window in your oh-so-busy schedule for me?!" he dropped his arms and clenched his fists, shaking in place.

Kenny waited for five beats of silence, taking that as his go-ahead. "Kyle," he breathed out, entire body spinning with what the boy was saying. "How long...have you noticed this?" he whispered.

He blinked, looking at him like he was absolutely stupid. "Like the last fucking six months, you inconsiderate fuck!" he bit. "I kept giving you the benefit of the doubt, thinking that you just wandered off and fell asleep somewhere since you do that when you're bored," he rolled his eyes. "But ditching me for _your_ little sister's play is just crossing the fucking line!"

"Six months," he whispered breathlessly. "Oh my god...you _remember_ ," he couldn't stop a wide, tearful grin.

Kyle backed up a bit, carefully watching Kenny for any signs of a psychotic break. "Why the fuck are you smiling?"

"You _remember_ ," he repeated, walking towards him, not caring one bit that Kyle was still in his defensive position. He reached forward and grabbed around him, clasping him in a bear hug. "Oh my god, oh my _god_ ," he sobbed happily.

Kyle hands swatted against him, trying to pry out of his larger boyfriend's grip. "The fuck are you crying for?! _I'm_ the one being ditched all the damn time!"

"Kyle," he said, letting go around him but grasping his arms tightly in his hands, staring into those eyes, those wonderful _remembering_ green eyes. "I _die_ ," he said desperately. Kyle backed up from him a bit like he'd just grown a second head. "I'm serious," he insisted. "Kyle, I fucking die and come back all the time! Any time I've been missing I've been killed."

"Let go..." he said slowly, eyes flickering to his old Jewscouts knife sitting gathering dust on his desk top. "And get away from me."

Kenny's face dropped. "I'll _prove_ it," he insisted. "Let me prove it!"

His brow scrunched together worriedly, analytical and paranoid mind fearing a forced double-suicide at the rate words were spilling out of the blonde's mouth. "Kenny, you're talking nonsense. I can...take you somewhere a-and someone can-"

"No," he shook him a bit. "Kyle, I am one hundred percent serious. And you're going to watch," he claimed, hauling him towards his door and out into the hallway. He could feel Kyle resisting the pull, but continued his way through, down the stairs and towards the front door.

"Kenny, stop!" he demanded, wriggling around, honestly just too confused with the situation to do much more as Kenny dragged him outside. They stood on the Broflovskis' front lawn, Kenny watching the road and keeping his grip tight on his boyfriend, heart palpitating excitedly. He watched with a grin as a large truck began its way down the street.

He turned, seeing Kyle's scared face and kissing him briskly, not minding when the favor was not returned. "Just watch," he whispered, counting down before letting go of the redhead and throwing himself in front of the vehicle. The last thing he heard was a panicked scream by Kyle of his name before his skull cracked under the wheel.

**...**

Kenny pouted a bit as he woke from his ascension, knowing full and well that nearly a week had passed. He rolled his eyes, looking down and finding himself in a patch of grass. He vaguely remembered Damien once telling him years before that if he had business to attend to, he woke up in the spot that it needed to happen in, unable to tell him the reason himself but seeming just as curious as the blonde. Kenny grunted, hopping up onto his feet and cracking his neck as he glanced around, shivering in the cold of early spring.

He blinked as he found a small redhead suited in a dress shirt and slacks on the ground, holding his stomach and sobbing hysterically. His heart dropped and he hurried over towards him. A quick scan showed yet another gravestone of his, Kyle kneeling beside it and convulsing with heavy sobs. His chest lurched guiltily before he cleared his throat, taking a step closer. Kyle looked up at him and his eyes widened in fright, falling back and whimpering subtly. "Hey, hey," he cooed, kneeling down a bit. "It's just me, Kyle," he smiled reassuringly.

Kyle's breath quickened out of control, eyes flickering to the tombstone engraved so beautifully with Kenny's name. The blonde chuckled. "Give that a second," he waved his hand listlessly. Kyle froze as the world around him seemed to do the same, sound disappearing and wind ceasing all at once. He glanced down, feeling as though he were in a drugged-out stupor as he found blades of grass still bent from a gust of air, frozen in time. He looked again at the undead blonde before him who smiled, pointing at the rock beside him. The redhead glanced down, blinking rapidly as the stone and fresh dirt beneath him disappeared all at once before the world picked itself back up.

"W-what..." he whispered, biting his lip fearfully as he stared at the grass swaying beneath him once more.

"I die, Kyle," he said gently. "I have for... _years_. Since we were little kids. You're the first one to remember it happening though," he grinned widely. "That's why I keep disappearing. I never told you because every time I tried, no one could remember what I'd said or what happened...The world resets when I come back. But now, _you_ won't," he looked at his boyfriend's doubtful face and took a long, shaking breath, "Kyle, I promise, everything's okay," he held out his hand.

Kyle moved onto his knees, tears leaking down his face over large purple bags. Kenny didn't know how to react, not used to seeing him looking so disheveled, so _lost_. "Don't do that again," he whispered, sobbing out brokenly. "Kenny," he whimpered, " _Please_ don't do that again."

His heart lurched and he scrambled forward to grab ahold of him, feeling Kyle digging his nails into his back as he cried onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he peppered his head with kisses, swinging him back and forth. "I'll never go on purpose again, okay?" he said, chest twisting painfully. He didn't know this moment of clarity with someone would _hurt_ so much. "I can't promise to avoid it altogether though."

Kyle coughed, nodding against Kenny's now-dampened t-shirt and clinging onto him tighter. Kenny rubbed his hand up and down Kyle's back, feeling his heart beating out of control and sighing to himself. He continued to plant gentle kisses around his head and face, ignoring his own happiness in the moment. He instead focused on the poor broken-hearted boy clasping onto him so tightly, as though he had the power to keep him down on Earth where he belonged.

* * *

"-neth?"

Kenny blinked out of his stupor, looking at Raphael and Jegudiel watching him in concern. "What?" he rasped out, emotion trying to escape without his permission.

"Are you all right?" Raphael asked.

Kenny looked from him to the post, reaching down and grabbing his sword. He could feel Kyle's cries racking through his spine, his tears leaking through his shirt. He could feel nothing but how he wanted to stopfate just to spare his redhead the absolute despair that he'd set upon him. He growled, hand shaking with his weapon. The other two backed off slowly, watching the blonde reacting carefully.

"His eyes," Jegudiel whispered, both of them watching as Kenny's face turned from pacifism to a complete rage. The blonde just wanted to get to Kyle and _live_ goddammit. He wanted both of them to _live_. He saw Damien take place of the post and his temperament spiraled out of control, his eyes glassing over as he raised his sword. The angels watched as the blade began to glow that bright white light. Kenny swung it down, slamming into the post and the group watching as the light exploded from the sword, streaming off into the sky, blinding them and tossing the elder archangels backwards.

When they opened their eyes again, Raphael and Jegudiel gaped a bit as the now-destroyed post being nowhere to be seen. They glanced at the panting blonde, who shook his hair out of his eyes, looking at them with a determined gleam flashing through. "Resurrection," he said firmly.

"What?" Raphael asked, too stunned to make anything else come out.

He held up his sword, licking his sweat-coated lips as the blade continued to shimmer with his irises. "Its name is Resurrection."


	24. Right in His Own Eyes

**But to those who are selfishly ambitious and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, wrath and indignation.** _**-Romans 2:8** _

Damien couldn't help but smirk as he watched Kyle trudging out of his prison, dark bags under his eyes and that seemingly-permanent scowl set upon his slender face. Valefor happily bounded out behind him, practically prancing up to his side and the Jew scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What?" he snapped at Damien, beyond irritated that the demon had woken him up from a very restless nap. He tried cracking his neck and groaned. Valefor was way too big for him to be using as a pillow but it was either that or the stone floor so choices just had to be made at that point.

"We're going to begin training," Damien cooed. He watched Kyle narrow his eyes and try to step back, reaching forward and grabbing his wrist, holding it up and tugging the redhead up in front of him. "And I am being _kind_ and giving you the option to _walk_ to the grounds as opposed to me tearing you apart right here." Kyle let out a long breath through his nose, bringing up his opposite hand and quickly slicing his claws down Damien's forearm. The demon scowled, not losing his grip and slamming his fist into Kyle's temple, letting go and watching him crumple on the ground in pain. "If you _want_ me to use your body to my liking, I shall," he said, licking over his lips and staring at his wound, watching it begin healing with hungry eyes.

Kyle's eyes opened and his pupils shrunk. The phrasing just settled uneasily amidst Damien's overtly casual tone. He struggled onto the sides of his legs, staring up at the daunting figure standing before him with an amused but impatient look about him. "Why aren't you training your _soldiers_?" he spat.

He smirked, "They're not mine, Little mouse. _You_ are the only soldier I truly own. The rest in all technicality belong to my father."

Kyle blinked before snarling, jumping forward and trying to scratch at Damien's legs, falling flat on his face as he easily stepped back out of reach. He looked up, hiding an embarrassed blush as best as he could. "You don't own me," he sneered. " _No one_ fucking owns me."

"You seem to think McCormick does," he said cooly, watching as Kyle grabbed onto the back of Valefor's neck to assist him back up, dusting ash off of himself.

He looked at him primly as he finished cleaning himself off and crossed his arms. "When I _allow_ him to he does," he replied smartly. "But I am not a given property. You have to pay off the lease first."

Damien cocked an amused brow and shook his head. "Are you going to walk there or am I making you?"

Kyle took another deep breath, bristling under his cooled demeanor. He wasn't stupid. Damien _would_ make him, and he wasn't quite sure of how to control what he was doing as of yet. And considering how much pain he knew was ahead of him, the longer it waited and the more he could stall Damien from doing his little puppet show the better. "Fine," he spat, rolling his eyes. The demon chuckled, turning on his heel and motioning for him to follow. Kyle grumbled under his breath, taking off with the dog beside him looking around curiously and sniffing the air. The redhead looked between him and the noirette, wondering if Valefor's little loyalty for himself outweighed what he had for Damien, if he could get the dog to rip his damn throat out.

Damien glanced back, seeing the thoughtful gaze and scoffing. "Valefor won't attack me, Little one. Nice try."

Kyle glanced up, face burning and a sputter escaped his lips, like a child being caught sneaking a snack after bedtime. He quickly composed himself and cleared his throat as he caught up to Damien's side. "Well, a man can hope. I suppose that fools don't tend to turn on each other easily, do they?" he replied cooly. "Trying to preserve their like-minded idealism of hopeless causes and whatnot."

"Oh?" he snorted. "And just _what_ hopeless cause are we united in?"

"Trying to put me on your side," he raised his brow. "You want me to fight a war you're bound to lose and he wants me to buy him Milkbones."

"Seems to me you're taking to him quite well," he ridiculed.

He rolled his eyes, "Well between the two of you and that fat bitch lackey of yours, he's the lesser of three morons." He looked down at Valefor nudging him again and twisted his lips in a frown. "I don't have to pet you every second, stop it!" he hissed. Valefor's ears dropped and he turned back to the front in what Kyle could only relate to as a pout. _'Jesus, he's as bad as Kenny when I stop lavishing him with affection,'_ he rolled his eyes and shook his head, looking back to the ground in front of them as they walked with a saddened gaze. What he wouldn't give to be able to dish out said affection right now and have it returned in the way that only Kenny knew how.

"So cruel to the only ray of hope you'll have for the rest of eternity," Damien smirked darkly.

"Overconfidence is what leads to a war being lost," he stated simply. "You're going for your Lebensraum in the East without accounting for the scale of what you're attempting. You might be heading in like you've already won but you'll be sent right back where you came from bloodied and frostbitten beyond recognition," he raised his brow superiorly.

He returned the expression, "You believe your idiot poses such a threat, do you?"

"Why _else_ would they have drafted him again?" he scoffed. "Ken will win this war and hold your fucking decapitated head up for your little minions to see," he said confidently. He groaned under his breath as his body began burning again, having to stop and curl into himself a bit. Valefor stopped with him, staring up at him patiently. Damien paused a few steps ahead, watching him curiously.

"Something wrong, Little mouse?" he asked with a simple turn-up of his lips.

He hissed between his teeth, body beginning to tremor. He fell onto his knees and let out a long-winded cry, claws digging into his arms. He couldn't feel them delving into his flesh, too distracted by how his entire system seemed to be on a whirlwind of flames. He vaguely recognized Damien stepping in front of him and kneeling down. A hand cupped his chin and he shook his head, vision beginning to blearily fade in and out. His right eye began throbbing and he groaned, listlessly trying to smack Damien's hold away.

"The sooner you accept what you are, the sooner it stops," Damien's voice breeched his suffering.

Kyle's eyes fluttered up, looking at his nearly-distorted face and narrowing. "What?" he whispered, gritting his fangs as yet another shock wave rocked his body.

"Do you know what a demon thrives on, Little mouse?" he asked, stroking his thumb along Kyle's quivering jawline.

He gulped down a chunk of bile trying to rise, staring at Damien weakly. "Idiocy?" he hissed.

Damien rolled his eyes but couldn't help himself but indulge in a small smirk. Stubborn little mortal through and through. "No," he said bluntly. "Self-preservation." Kyle's brow raised confusedly before another jolt through his system sent him sprawling on the ground, curling up into a fetal position and breaking into a cold sweat. "Demons," Damien continued nonchalantly, staring at him as he writhed, "are built to be selfish creatures. We feed off of greed, hatred, and that overconfidence you so loved to ramble on about," he mocked.

Kyle panted a bit, glazed eyes looking almost through him as though lost. "So?"

" _So_ putting so much confidence in _McCormick_ isn't going to help you any," he scoffed. "You need to dig in and find the part of you that cares about _you_ ," he stated. "Worrying yourself with others will bring you nothing but pain, your body won't know how to handle your powers if they're not being properly exerted."

Kyle sneered, tapping the ground a bit with his palm. Valefor came over, bending down and sniffing his hair. The redhead reached up, grabbing around his thick neck. "Up," he whispered brokenly. The dog licked his face, lifting him slowly and staying perfectly still as Kyle worked to support himself against his stocky build. Kyle settled on the side of his legs, still clasped around Valefor and glaring half-heartedly at the demon. "Easy to say for someone who has _nothing_ ," he spat.

He narrowed his eyes, "I have _you_ ," he reminded him. "And the sooner you remember that the better."

"No, you don't have me," he shook his head stubbornly. "You kidnapped me and poisoned me, big fucking _deal_. Just because I'm stolen property it doesn't make me _your_ property."

"Remember that I made you part of me," he recounted firmly. "Like it or not, you're a demon, Little mouse. _My_ demon. Best start acting like one before you're a crippled mess," he smirked.

Kyle growled, leaning up closer towards his face. "I don't care what _bullshit_ you put in me, you fuck. I'm not _part_ of you. I don't _belong_ to you. And I'm not _like_ you."

"Oh?" he questioned. He reached up and grabbed Kyle's hair once again, ripping him away from Valefor. The redhead yelped as he started tearing his head back, baring his slender throat. His hands weakly came up, trying to scratch at his attacker and fumbling through pained insults. Damien licked his lips, staring at his convulsing neck and leaning towards him. "Come on, Little one," he murmured with half-lidded eyes. He eyed his vulnerable opening like an artist eyeing his fresh canvas; Pure and sweet, ready for the ever-precise marks of its owner.

Kyle's hair stood on end from the feeling of his warm breath washing over the crook of his neck. "W-what are you-" he let out some inhuman panicked noise as Damien moved just close enough he could feel the moistness of his breath bouncing against his skin. "Stop!" he screamed, tossing his hands up and feeling that power rushing through him once again. They both went flying back from each other with the impact, Damien landing skillfully in a crouch while poor Kyle flopped uselessly onto the ground, Valefor hurrying after him. The man shuddered as he felt his blood cooling in the slightest. "I'm not like you," he repeated, almost to himself. He looked up to see the dog hovering above him, bending down and bumping his muzzle against his head. He pushed him back gently and moved himself up onto his knees, staring across the way at Damien who couldn't seem to take his eyes off of him. "What do you _want from me_?" he demanded sharply. "What do you want from Kenny? Or Heaven? What the _fuck_ are you fighting for?!"

He raised his brow and got to his feet. "What did I just say?" he questioned. "Demons fight for. Them. Selves," he enunciated, walking closer towards the redhead who backed up slowly. "Look at what you just did," he gestured towards him. "You weren't thinking of your precious moron there, were you? You just wanted to save yourself, didn't you?" Kyle raised his brow confusedly and his face dropped into a scowl that sent the redhead's heart pounding away worriedly. "Because you're just like them, Little mouse," he pointed off in the distance. "A greedy, selfish little piece of wasted air."

Kyle scrambled onto his feet, trying to keep the distance between them as he saw a hardened look flashing through Damien's demeanor. "That's it?" he asked incredulously. "You think people are selfish so you want to destroy _everything_?" He looked at him in disbelief, unable to believe his life was in the hands of someone with the motivation of a _child_.

"Little one, let me remind you of something," he purred dangerously, stepping closer towards him, eyes beginning to glow. Kyle gulped and tried moving back, yelping as something cinched around his tattered pant leg. He looked down, finding another of Damien's roots springing from the ground and slithering up his right leg. It wrapped snugly around his thigh down to his knee and he looked up confusedly at the approaching monster. "This has been _my_ life. What about yours? School, friends, family, McCormick. And that's about it, isn't it?" he reached down and grabbed the back of Kyle's neck, digging his claws into his flesh and drawing him forward. "You know what _I_ get to deal with? A whole lot of bitching to put it _very_ mildly," he frowned. "But you know what's so _fascinating_ about mortals? They love to brag about what good people they are, and how everyone comes before them. But if that were true, they wouldn't be down here."

"People _are_ good," he insisted, wincing as the vine tightened around his leg.

"Then why are they down here? Why does my army exceed that of God's?" he challenged.

Kyle's mouth opened before it slowly shut itself once more, feeling that burning starting back up again. "Your standards are too high," he finally answered.

Damien's scowl broke in lieu of a smirk. "Here's the plain and simple fact, Little mouse: Humans _are_ demons. In their own light. They'll go kicking and screaming about their innocence even as they're dragged through tortures. But you know when they mention their family?" he raised his brow. "At the _beginning_ of their sentencing. As soon as the whip comes down, all they want is themselves. They'd give up their own children before facing another day of chains."

Kyle narrowed his eyes, "Okay, fine. So you're a spoiled little brat who can't handle customer service and doesn't want to work anymore. Why me and Kenny?"

"McCormick is an obstacle," he shrugged. "An anomaly of the order that I'm supposed to represent. I don't _like_ being proven wrong, Little one."

"No wonder you're so angry all the time as fucking dumb as you-" he cut off with a scream as the root tightened around his thigh enough to cut down into the skin through the worn denim, taking deep breaths and trying to work it off of him with shaking hands.

"As for _you_..." he watched him carefully.

He shot his head up, tears beading his marbled eye, "What? I'm being punished because I love Ken?" he snapped.

"To start, yes," he smirked, flicking his forehead lightly. "For another, it's been so _fun_ watching you break."

Kyle scowled, "I haven't been breaking, you ass."

He nodded slightly, "Bit by bit you have. Not nearly as fast as any other mortal I've dealt with I can assure you...But you make for an interesting test subject," he purred. Kyle blinked as he leaned down towards him again, "And I want to watch you _shatter_."

"You won't, I'm not one to even _crack_ ," he hissed.

He smiled slyly, "We'll see about that." Kyle growled before yelping as he found himself being whipped into the air by his captured leg. He tilted around, flailing his arms in a complete panic. The vine held him still by the knee, the top half forcing him backwards with a hard jerk.

A loud crack ripped through the air, reverberating throughout Kyle's entire body. The pain was immediate and immense. A blood-curdling scream ripped from his lungs at a decibel that Damien didn't even know was possible, watching him from the ground with a wide grin and glittering eyes. The root fled from Kyle and rushed back to the ground as the man fell a good twenty feet down, not even able to recognize the descent through the agony coursing through his leg. He landed with a hard _thud_ , his injured limb smacking against the stone and starting a new wave of torment. He stared up at the sky, gasping for air like a fish thrown from the pond, black edging his vision as ripples of anguish sparked through every inch of him like a spiderweb. The man gained the courage to look down, his face paling at the obvious sight of his jaggedly raised thigh, the femur beneath split right in two. He let out a long cry and his head fell back as Damien watched him amusedly.

"Now, bones are much harder to heal than skin," he started, walking over and staring at the mess lying under Kyle's flesh and jeans. "I think once you get to that point, once you _realize_ what you're capable of, we'll begin your real training. Or..." he paused under Kyle's labored breathing. "I'll heal you now if you agree to be compliant with me," he cooed. Kyle's brow furrowed, fighting through the sweat and torment. "Agree to fight for me without my hand forcing you to do every little thing and you'll be spared, Little mouse," he said calmly.

"No... _never_ ," he gasped out, shaking his head briskly. He vaguely recognized Valefor pressing his nose against his forearm desperately but couldn't do a damn thing about the situation. He choked a bit, turning his head to the side and panting through an open mouth. This was indescribable, something that no amount of high school health classes explaining it could have possibly captured.

"Very well," Damien shrugged, raising his foot and slamming his heel onto his broken leg, watching him howl. He observed as his skin went clammy with sweat, face almost waxy in appearance as he was swathed in misery. "Then I guess I'll see you when you can move again. Oh and, I would suggest getting back to your room," he smirked. "Plenty of demons have a mutinous agenda. And well...with you being incapacitated and all, there are plenty here who would love to eat a small little thing like you _bit by bit_ ," he jeered. "And you'd just be alive for the whole damn show, reviving in this state just to do it all again," he grinned at Kyle's nauseated expression. "Have fun," he said simply, taking his foot off and stepping back. Kyle watched in confusion and terror as he seeped through the ground, that ravenous expression right back as he disappeared.

"Oh _god_ ," Kyle whispered, entire body tremoring. He turned his head, "Valefor, Valefor, come here," he waved him so his head was over his chest. He reached up and grabbed around his neck again. "Help me up," he begged. "Come on, up!" Valefor moved back towards his legs a bit, taking Kyle's arms with him. After a lot of strenuously slow effort and flinching each time Kyle screeched in pain, he finally had the redhead sitting upright. The man looked at him through glassy eyes, hoarsely breathing through a sore throat. "Good dog," he praised softly, petting his head. "Good dog."

He glanced around a bit, sniffling and wiping his eyes with a wrist. This was bad. This was just so fucking _bad_. He had to get back to the room, he wasn't about to take the chance that Damien wasn't lying. "Val, can you help me stand?" he whispered. The dog licked his sweat-laced face, lying down beside him and Kyle nodded. "Okay..." he moved ever so gently to place his hands on Valefor's withers, moving bending up the knee of his good leg for leverage. "One, two...three," he gritted his teeth, trying to pull himself up a bit by the dog's back before crumbling back onto the ground, hissing as his broken leg thumped against the stone beneath him. "Oh _god_ ," he repeated, unable to help a round of vehement sobbing. "Kenny, fucking _help me_ ," he begged through a small whisper, reminding himself of when he just a small child scared of a thunderstorm, begging for God to put an end to it. This was it, he was just a kid caught in the middle of Hurricane Damien. Wind was throwing him about, hail was crashing down and bruising every inch of him, and second it looked like it was going to clear up he found himself shoved down again by the strength of a typhoon.

"Kyle?" an unfamiliar voice breeched his misery. He looked over to the side, seeing a tall curly-haired noirette with dull red eyes, black wings spread on either side of him.

"Don't touch me!" he hissed, Valefor hopping to his feet and growling, eyes beginning to shift into their eerie glow.

He held up his hands in defense, "Calm yourself," he said softly. "I'm here from Heaven, Ken sent me to find you!"

Kyle's jaw dropped, his pain flickering off for but a second. "Valefor...down," he said monotonously. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked skeptically, resting his hand on Valefor's lower back to ease him down into sitting in front of him, the dog still tensed defensively.

"What would prove it?" he asked.

"Tell me something that he said to you," he demanded.

He blinked, looking up in thought. "Well, the first thing he asked when he learned I was a spy was if Damien hopefully caught Super AIDS," he winced with a shrug.

Kyle couldn't help but smile warmly, heart settling in relief. He felt Valefor's tension fall with his own and took a deep breath, "That's Ken," he said fondly. He bit his lip, carefully avoiding his fang, "Are you here to get me out?" he asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "I can't, Kyle, I'm sorry. It's far too risky, especially considering who you are in this mess."

The redhead's shoulders sunk, "Damn," he muttered.

"I know," he said pitiably, moving closer and kneeling down in front of him. "Ken wants you to know that he's working to save you and that he loves you. Trust me, there's nothing he wants more than to see you safe and take you back home."

He smiled a bit before it slowly inched off his face. "What's your name?"

"Nathaneal," he bowed his head a bit.

"Nathaneal," he repeated before gulping. "Nathenael...does he know...what I am?" he could barely squeak it out.

He nodded solemnly. "According to what Michael told me before I met Ken...he saw you right after the fact. And he nearly lost it and struck down one of his fellow archangels for speaking against you."

"Saw me?" he raised his brow.

"God's vision," he shrugged. Kyle made a small nod of understanding, taking a deep breath. The angel looked at him and the mess he'd become and bit his lip, "Kyle, I have to tell you something. And it's not from anyone but the facts." The man looked at him and nodded him on. "Damien...there's something about you, Kyle."

"Whaddya mean?" he narrowed his eyes confusedly.

He stole a glance at the dog watching him carefully and back onto the infected man. "His plans are to kill Ken...and to keep you," he said softly.

"Well I mean if I'm a demon he can't kill me so I figure-" he stopped when Nathaneal raised a hand, shaking his head again.

"He doesn't want to keep you as a laborer, Kyle. I don't know _what_ he wants but he's determined to keep a hold on you."

That uncomfortable feeling slammed right back into Kyle and he gulped. "He wants to keep me," he repeated. "He treats me like...a pet...and he wants to keep me." He looked at the angel in concern. "It's just because of Ken, right?" he winced.

"I don't think so," he whispered. Kyle's shoulders sunk and he rubbed his throbbing temple.

"What a mess," he muttered. This was getting out of hand. How _he_ ended up right in the middle of this battle was just far beyond what his imagination could have ever plotted out for him.

Nathaneal sighed, holding out his hand. "Let me help you back to your..." he trailed off.

"Prison," he finished quietly, taking the hand gratefully. "Thank you." Nathaneal nodded with a small smile, throwing his arm around his shoulders and hauling him up off the ground. Kyle groaned in pain, fingers clenching into the man's tunic sleeve. "All right, quick trip," he promised him, gently lifting the both of them off the ground and very slowly making his way back towards the dark room. Kyle hissed along the way, watching as Valefor moved beside them, his eyes never leaving Nathaneal's body. Kyle whimpered and the angel cooed him, keeping them moving along, sharp eyes watching out for any stray demons that may catch him helping Damien's new toy.

After what seemed like hours to the poor broken man, they made it back to his cell. "Valefor, go lie down," he pointed, panting from the exertion of movement. The dog looked at him before going to do as told, keeping his head up in alert. Nathaneal helped him down onto the ground, hopping over with pained yelps. He assisted his descent down onto the floor beside Valefor, heart aching painfully at the forced grateful smile spread across his suffering face. "Thank you," he repeated.

He nodded. "Is there anything you want to tell Ken?"

Kyle paused, taking a large gulp. What could he even _begin_ to say? That he was in indescribable pain and Damien's favorite source of entertainment? That he still hadn't learned to shut his mouth to keep himself out of trouble? That he had somehow acquired a fucking dog from the depths of Hell when he told Kenny he wasn't even allowed to have a damn Pomeranian? His shoulders sunk and he tongued over his lips, glancing up at the angel waiting patiently. "Tell him...Morrison's up my ass, but the apartment's not on fire." Nathaneal cocked his brow and he shrugged sheepishly, "He'll understand."

The angel nodded, "Hopefully we can get you out soon, Kyle. I promise, that's a main objective at this point."

"Thanks," he whispered. Nathaneal turned to leave and Kyle jolted forward a bit. "Wait!" he called out. The angel looked back with a cocked head and Kyle sniffled. "Kenny's an _arch_ angel?" he questioned softly.

He smiled knowingly and chuckled. "He is. And probably the most powerful," he winked. "You have the right one willing to give you their all, Kyle. Trust me." He turned once more and looked out to check for any demons before taking flight out into the open air.

Kyle watched after him a bit, a contented smile on his face. He scooched himself down, hissing as his throbbing leg but paying it little mind. He lied his head back on Valefor's side, feeling the dog lying his head down as well as he stared up at the ceiling, red eyes glistening happily. Kenny knew. He knew what Kyle was and still sent the message that he loved him and he would find a way to save him. He sniffled again; That was _just_ what he needed to hear. He nuzzled down into Valefor's coat, letting his eyes slip shut and indulging in a wonderfully vibrant vision of his blonde hero smiling that adoring crooked smile and taking flight.


	25. The Burden of Enlightenment

**Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. -** _**Matthew 6:34** _

Brushing sandy, sweat-licked locks out of his face, Kenny couldn't help but stare up at the beaming golden and periwinkle sky. He took a deep breath, knowing full and well the kind of sky that Kyle was stuck with, the one stained like autumn leaves swept up and heading into clouds of charcoal billowing from the ground. Even with that notion, it was nice to pretend that they were looking at the same cloud, both of them just resting for a bit, letting themselves roll the stress of the day off their backs until they could see each other again. He sighed, resting his chin on his palm and smacking his lips, looking down into the arena as Uriel went across the way battling an array of guards.

His eyes swept across Repentance, glowing a vibrant orange down to the hilt encrusted with thick diagonal stripes of ruby coloring. He watched with wide pupils, completely absorbed in the show below him. Uriel watched a group rushing him from the left and glanced to another incoming from the right. He hopped up and swung his sword towards the left, a strand of flame bursting from the blade and propelling him backwards as the group was taken down. He yelled out as he managed to use his momentum and twirl himself in midair, coming to a stop with the help of his wings and sending another screaming line down towards the opposing group. He landed and breathed heavily a few times, pushing his blonde curls out of his face and smirking self-righteously. "Come now, you've all fought me before, you're better than that!" he called out light heartedly.

Kenny scoffed, wondering why _they_ procured the testy angel's favor. Apparently none of _them_ had a kidnapped fiancé infected by the anti-christ. Well weren't they all just so goddamn special?

"Jealous, are we?" A playful voice teased. Kenny looked back to see God standing behind him, watching him with a gentle smile.

"Hey, God," he nodded. "What's up?"

He shrugged, moving to stand beside him, looking down at Uriel's showmanship and chuckling. "He's quite a showoff, isn't he?" He asked.

Kenny shook his head, "Nah, honestly I'm kinda jealous. He's movin' around like he's a goddamn cartoon character and my powers are still so...clunky, ya know?" he winced.

He patted his arm with a gentle paw, "You'll get there. You're just now delving into what you can do."

"I'm trying," he smiled weakly.

"And I'm very proud," He assured him. Kenny cleared his throat and blushed, only used to that kind of statement from Kyle when he didn't completely fuck something up. He couldn't help but wonder if the redhead would say that if he could see him now, or if he'd be pushing him to work even harder. Knowing him it'd be some oddly comforting combination of the two that included a blowjob if Kenny was being _very_ well behaved and trying his damnedest. "Believe it or not, you're developing faster than Uriel ever did," God commented offhandedly.

"Oh really?" he smirked. "From the way he talks, you'd think he figured shit out in an hour."

He chuckled lightly, "Remember, it's been a few thousand years. He forgets that it doesn't start out so easily, and you weren't _made_ for this job like he was." He glanced at Kenny's thoughtful face, "For a mortal fighting just for another mortal, you're doing fine," He assured him. "Better than fine, in fact. Raphael can't stop bragging about you to Michael."

He shifted a bit and laughed awkwardly, "Well, he _has_ been my main trainer. He probably just wants t' show off how 'great' of a teacher he is," he smirked amusedly. "Everything I've done so far is because of him...and Jegudiel telling me how to spin like a fuckin' ballerina," he rolled his eyes.

"So long as it keeps you from getting hurt, be thankful for his teachings," He laughed.

"Gotcha," he winked a bit. He jolted with a soft kick to his back, looking up to see a brunette head looking at him amusedly. "Well, well, speak of the gonna-help-me-beat-the-Devil," Kenny teased.

Raphael smirked, "Shouldn't you be training?"

He pointed into the arena, "I actually have an excuse this time. Uriel's down there and I don't wanna deal with wanting to rip his wings off and beat him with 'em."

He nodded, "Understandable." He moved over and plopped down to the opposite side of the blonde, staring down with him. "Are you learning anything?" he asked.

"Yeah, Uriel belongs in Hell," he twisted his mouth a bit. He felt the two of them staring at him and he shrugged listlessly, "Okay, his _sword_ belongs in Hell. I mean, who the fuck thinks of angels going with fire?" he complained, gesturing wildly down towards the ground.

God chuckled, "Fire is not inherently evil, Kenneth. It's a cleanser above all things."

"It's Hell below all things," Ken raised his brow. "You know, the enemy? Torturers of souls? Suckers of dicks? Kidnappers of important people to someone sitting next to you? You know, fire?"

"Do you consider light to be evil?" He asked innocently.

He blinked, "Well, no..."

"What is fire but a living light?" Raphael continued with a shrug. "I mean, think about it, fires are needed for things like building the world in the dark, lighting candles, providing warmth. Simple, innocent things. Do you consider _those_ to be evil?"

He scoffed, "Well it's evil if those candles are cinnamon because Kyle's allergic to the fake smell and end up sneezing so damn hard the walls shake."

His face dropped in an unamused line and he shook his head, "You don't need to be a sarcastic ass about _everything,_ Kenneth."

"Ay, you can't call me that no more, you lost your right when ya stopped," he said snobbishly. "You ain't my mom. Or God. Or...any of the other pretentious dicks around like you," he waved his hand aimlessly. "And only Ky is allowed to call me that when I'm in trouble so you don't get that privilege," he declared. Raphael shook his head even slower as the blonde continued, "And _furthermore,_ I _do_ need to be that way because otherwise I get really depressing really fast," he admitted with a shrug.

"...You're an ass."

"And proud of it," he smirked, punching the angel's arm lightly. God watched the two of them, laughing quietly to Himself.

"Ken!" a voice called from behind them. They whirled around to see Nathaneal swooping down towards them.

Kenny hopped to his feet, nearly stumbling backwards over the edge of the balcony before his wings caught and propelled him back upright. He watched the angel land in front of the three of them, a hint of worry lingering in his eyes. "Did you find Kyle?! How is he?! Does he look like he's eaten?! What's going on?!" He asked in a blind haste, not liking the fact that the angel did not have a smile on his face.

Raphael put a hand on his shoulder, raising his hand and slowly lowering it in front of his face. "Calm down," he coaxed. "Now...Nathaneal. How is Kyle?" he asked.

He crossed his arms and shifted, "It's...not...great," he winced. "Though he's alive and feisty, I can tell you that much."

"Well Kyle would _have_ to be dead for that to stop," Kenny smiled weakly.

He gulped a bit, "Ken...he looks like a disaster," he admitted. Kenny's face fell and he took a deep breath. "He has this...wound on his arm," he pointed to his own, "It looks beyond infected. I could _smell_ it," he scrunched his nose, easily recalling the vile stench that leaked from the arm tossed over his shoulder.

"Damien's access point," God clarified. "It's where Damien stabbed him with his blood. His old skin can't handle the poison."

"Poison?" Kenny repeated softly. "Like...a _literal_ poison?"

He nodded solemnly. "His blood is completely toxic by now," He sighed. "His body shifted when Damien turned him to be able to handle it without completely destroying him..."

"But it still hurts," Nathaneal finished, another sad nod coming from the deity. He looked back at Kenny's worried face. "He's suffering, I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you. I...I watched he and Damien in confrontation," he sighed tiredly. "Kyle told him of his faith in you and it...nearly crippled him," he winced.

"How?" he narrowed his eyes.

"According to Damien, he's not tapping into what he needs to control _his_ powers," he explained. "Apparently he needs to be selfish and fight only for himself. Whenever he tries to defend himself from an attack, he unleashes it. But if he tries to defend _you_ or humans in general it just makes him collapse," he gestured to the ground. "He's burning from the inside out, Ken."

His jaw dropped a bit, "Will it-"

"No," God interjected hurriedly. "His body will remain intact, it'll just _hurt_ ," He assured him. "This cannot kill him. If it could, he wouldn't have even made it a minute past Damien's ritual."

Kenny looked at the clouds below him, gulping down an anxious lump forming in his throat. "Anything else?"

"Damien broke his femur," he muttered. Kenny cringed. He'd experienced that before when a fated death at 15 missed him just enough to just throw him down a hill and snap it clean in half. The pain was so unbearable he'd ended up throwing himself into Stark's just so he could drown and come back without the agony. The angel continued, "He's covered in scars and bruises and he just looks like a complete mess to say the least."

"Dammit," Kenny muttered, unable to find so many other words lingering at the surface.

He cleared his throat, "He also seems to have made companions with a Hellhound."

Kenny blinked, raising his brow, "Kyle doesn't even like dogs that much. How the hell did he befriend one of _those_ fucking things?" He could recall a pack of them staring him down on more than one occasion, growling so menacingly with those damn vicious teeth before turning and ripping right into a tortured soul beside them.

"It seems as though it's just attached to him," Nathaneal shrugged. "It was extremely protective of him when Kyle showed anxiety upon seeing me for the first time. Besides, I think considering where Damien's keeping him...any friend is better than none. He's using him as a pillow in his cell," he attempted a soft grin.

He smiled back meekly, "That's Ky. Using everythin' he can as a pillow. Dogs, coffeepots, textbooks, _me_..." he attempted a laugh, but it came out so deadened it only seemed to lessen the mood.

"Damien," the spy started again, biting his lip anxiously, "Damien said he wants to...break him."

"Break him?" he repeated. "How?"

"By whittling down his resistance to the powers," God answered. "He wants Kyle to experience the full brunt of how much control they can have over him."

"I told him of how Damien plans to keep him," Nathaneal continued, looking at the ground and rubbing his arm sheepishly. This just seemed so _hard_ to admit to the already emotionally persecuted archangel before him. "He seemed very scared by the notion. He mentioned how Damien treats him like a pet...And I noticed the bastard telling him how he _owned him_ , petting his hair, and...and getting _very_ close to him," he looked once more at Kenny, backing up a bit at the fire spitting from the ice-cold stare dead set on him at his words.

"Close how?" he demanded, voice a deep, even staccato.

He shifted a bit on his feet, "He had Kyle's neck exposed and...looked as though he were about to...bite it," he admitted softly.

"WHAT?!" Kenny screamed, losing every bit of his control at keeping an even temper.

"Ken, calm down," Raphael grabbed his arm, blinking at the tenseness running through the defined muscle.

"BITE. HIM?!" he repeated, ignoring the angel beside him and staring down the one in front, as though piercing through him via sight alone would somehow transmit his fury to Damien. His possessive streak was starting anew, eye twitching and trying to shift colors. His fingers brushed against the hilt of Resurrection, begging to rip it out of its sheath and let it taste Damien's venomous blood.

Raphael intervened quickly, knowing just how far this could push the blonde over, "But he _didn't_."

"Only because Kyle used his powers," Nathaneal confessed awkwardly. "Or maybe he wouldn't have, I don't know. I'm just telling you what I saw, Ken. And I told you how off putting this situation felt to begin with."

Kenny growled, gripping at his hair with one hand, tearing at the roots. Damien was trying to take Kyle from him, he was trying to _mark_ him. Making him into the creature that he flaunted about himself, picking Kyle apart piece by piece. He knew this game, he'd seen bits and pieces of it in his multiple trips down below. But Damien had never gotten so _close_ to a mortal before, claiming that they were too inferior, too _worthless_ to devote so much effort to. Why was Kyle so _different_ in this game? Because of their connection or because the thrill of the chase was just too much for Damien to pass up on? "Fuck," he spat, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I hope Kyle can keep the powers up then," he said flatly. "Because if Damien lays one fucking _finger_ on him I swear I will-"

"Calm. Down," Raphael repeated.

God put a paw on his leg and patted it gently. "It's all right, Kenneth. Kyle is strong. He'll be all right."

Kenny looked down at the creature beneath him and took a wavering breath. He was right. Kyle was strong. There were far too many instances of proof for that to override even the severity of the situation. At least, that's what Kenny would just keep telling himself, unable to dwell on the possibilities of what it was Damien wanted with his redhead. He looked back up to the sympathetic noirette's stare. "Did he say anything?" he questioned softly.

Nathaneal cocked his brow and nodded slowly. "Yes, he said to tell you 'Morrison's up his ass, but the apartment's not on fire'?"

Kenny broke into a real smile and chuckled, "Good. That's good." He took a deep breath, knowing just from that that his Kyle was still out there, that Damien hadn't broken through him yet. The bastard would have to try a lot harder to get through Kyle's stubborn-ass shell...Kenny grimaced. Unfortunately, he knew well enough that Damien's favorite thing to do was to try harder to get someone to crack under his hand, and Kyle was far from being one to just give in and get it over with. A broken femur could very easily be the least of his problems were he not careful enough.

"What does that mean?" Raphael asked confusedly.

He looked at the three of them staring expectantly and laughed. "So, When Ky started grad school, he had this professor named Morrison," he started, looking up and smiling fondly. "He taught this class on culture in early modern Europe, and he _hated_ Kyle," he snorted. "He couldn't figure it out for the life of him, he was doing great with the coursework, but the guy just had this vendetta against him and kept pushing him harder than anyone else in his damn class. He kept calling him out for answers or making him do the brunt of presenting his ideas and just overall driving him crazy. Ky was _pretty_ positive he was homophobic and saw the two of us together before he started," he shrugged. "He made Kyle _miserable_. He'd come home almost every day and punch the shit out of a pillow for about ten minutes, have a cup of coffee, and walk around the block or else he'd lose his mind."

"Okay..." Nathaneal raised his brow.

"And I used to work a really shitty shift at my job," he shrugged. "We'd get lucky if our free time overlapped at all and we got to see each other for more than a half hour outside of sleeping. He started planning his dinner around when my lunch break was and we'd call each other to talk while we ate. And, ya know, I'd ask how his day was because common courtesy or whatever," he waved dismissively. "And when he was having a particularly horrible day _outside_ of just that dickhead, he'd tell me the apartment wasn't on fire. It was just how he told me that life was going to shit and he was on the brink, but he'd survive," he smiled sadly. "So Damien's treating him like a piece of shit and he wants to kill him, but he'll make it through okay."

Raphael smirked a bit, punching his arm, "See? Even he's telling you that he'll be just fine."

"Not if Damien keeps getting in his face like that," he murmured, the smile dripping from his profile. "What's he gonna do to him?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer. He looked down to God who let out a long breath.

"I'm not sure," He answered. "I will keep my eyes open though."

Nathaneal cleared his throat, "Ken, is there anything I can do while I'm down there?"

Kenny looked at him and nodded sharply. "Keep an eye on him while you can," he directed. "And if anything starts going wrong...Get back here and tell me. Immediately," he added harshly.

The angel nodded. "Absolutely. That's all I have for now...But I won't let Kyle get far from my sight, I swear it."

"Thank you," he breathed out gratefully.

"Thank you, Nathaneal," God nodded. The angel smiled, looking back at the starry-eyed blonde.

"And just so you know," he said softly, "I've never seen anyone so relieved to hear what you wanted him to hear. I can tell he misses you something awful."

He smiled crookedly, "Well, the feeling's definitely mutual. Keep me updated, yeah?"

"Of course. I'll be in touch," he promised, turning and heading back from whence he'd came.

Kenny took a deep breath, looking back at the cloud below his feet and kicking at it listlessly. "Is Kyle going to change? If he unleashes his powers...will he...?" he asked almost noiselessly.

God's sharp hearing perked and He looked at him with empathetic eyes. "I don't know," He replied. "But to be honest, I really don't think so. Kyle's holding on very well."

Kenny shook his head, looking back up and into the distance, eyes grazing over the sky tiredly. "Maybe for now. But I have a feeling Damien's just getting started."


	26. Across the Lines

**Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.** _**-John 4:1** _

Scraping his claws along his stone floor, listening to the soft scratch invading the acoustics of his space, he tried to lull himself down from his agonized frenzy. Turning into a breathing metronome, he blinked on the off-beats, trying to find some sense of order as his nerves continued to blister his insides. He found himself listening to Valefor's soft breaths, deep in sleep, his head raising and lowering with the dog's lungs. Kyle's eyes were softly shut, resisting the urge to scrunch in pain, to let himself reveal just what kind of torment he was suffering through. Mind over matter, that's what he had always lived by and nowhere was it more needed than here. Curvaceous lashes batted against his paled cheeks like butterfly wings as he opened his sight to stare at the void looming above him.

Valefor let out a series of soft snores and Kyle couldn't help but smile weakly, thinking of Kenny's own nightly noises. He wanted to paint a picture for himself of what he needed most; Kenny's frizzy hair dripping over his face stained like ink in the night, small wisps of his bangs floating in and out with each breath. His snoring was gentle, pleasant even, and a sound that Kyle struggled to fall asleep without. The searing heat of Hell was nothing compared to the warmth of Kenny's arm draped over him listlessly, Kyle feeling his breath rebounding off Kenny's chest when the blonde would shift and nuzzle his chin down into Kyle's hair. The smell of grease, dirt, and pancakes was a constant on the man, and one that Kyle had grown so accustomed to over the years it had become the cologne that he desperately needed to let invade his nostrils now and again and seat him in reality, to know he was home.

He let out a soft gasp as his leg throbbed, taking a shaking hand and reaching down, gentle running his finger over the ridge now cresting his skin. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to unclench his jaw. He couldn't show how much it hurt. Something was just telling him he needed to be stronger than that, though he couldn't place it for sure. He wondered vaguely what Ken would think if he saw him now, if he'd been watching him on God's 'vision' as Nathaneal had called it. The angel said he'd lost it and struck someone down seeing him like this. Was it anger at Damien alone or something more? He gently scraped his fangs over his bottom lip, taking long, slow blinks and breathing through a barely open mouth. Kenny said he loved him, that he'd save him. But how? How could Kenny save him from the fate that Damien had ruthlessly struck upon him?

He gulped, a tiny voice within him reminding the redhead that his hero was with _God_ , after all. God would have the answer and would be able to cure him. _Someone_ had to.

Kyle's mind fleeted to Damien's impassioned little rant, fueling a deep seated rage in the pits of his stomach. Thriving off of himself was so much easier said than done. He was more than aware that he was a prideful person when it came to himself, there was no denying that fact, but he'd _worked_ to get himself to that point and he held himself up to what he considered an acceptable standard. He wasn't like fucking Cartman, who boasted and bragged when he wiped his own ass. Kyle sighed, trying to find something that he'd done just for himself. Sadly, he knew, in the last six years, everything he'd plannedhad had _two_ people in mind, even when it was something he really didn't want to deal with.

Hell, going to grad school only originated from Kenny claiming he didn't want to go to college, so Kyle knew he'd have to work harder for their future. He wasn't proud of his success of getting accepted, it was just necessary in his eyes. He'd told Ken that he refused to let the blonde live like he had his entire life and Kyle himself certainly wasn't going to survive on Pop-Tarts and Pabst, that they _both_ deserved better than that. He pouted a bit to himself. He hadn't even _thought_ of school since this whole mess started. He knew he had a perfectly viable excuse but he'd be damned if he'd wasted $20,000 this year just because the anti-christ had a goddamn complex. He groaned softly, beating his head lightly against Valefor's side, startling him awake. The dog raised his head and looked at him and the redhead shrugged sheepishly.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "But I can't sleep so why should you?" Valefor huffed a bit, lying his head down at an strained angle to stare at him. Kyle smiled, awkwardly tilting his arm over to scratch behind the dog's ear. "Kenny would love you," he commented quietly. "He loves dogs. Weirdo has so much goddamn energy he needs something besides me to play with," he rolled his eyes amusedly. He paused, "Well, that's selfish, right?" he asked. "I told him no he can't have a dog because _I_ don't like them as much...right?" he winced. The expression dropped and he sighed, "Who the fuck am I kidding I only said no because we didn't have the money," he grumbled. "Once I actually started work I was going to get him a damn dog so he'd stop pouting every damn time we passed the pet store."

Valefor continued staring at him, smacking his lips a bit and drooling onto the stone floor. Kyle's fingers traced through his short fur, taking a long breath as he drew patterns into the softness. "I hate this," he said softly, unable to stop a small sniffle from escaping him. He just wanted to go home. He wanted to call his mom and listen to her gossip excitedly about the scandals evolving in the Synagogue and suggest rabbis for the wedding. He wanted Stan to come over to rant about his and Wendy's latest pregnancy scare that would always end up in Stan drinking and crying asking if Kyle thought he'd be a good dad. He wanted to watch Kenny try to make dinner and burn everything and end up just taking him out for Chinese. He wanted all the little things; his shower with the overly soft water pressure and cinnamon flavored coffee drank from old, stained mugs. His couch with the lumpy middle seat from when Kenny pile-drove Cartman onto it when he came up to see them. The too-small kitchen and the cheap mattress in the bedroom with the one lose spring and all the things that Kyle used to make mental notes to fix. He just wanted everything again, to not be a prisoner. He just wanted a night spent as he and Kenny often would when one of them had a bad day; Ordering pizza, watching bad movies, and defiling every piece of furniture they could before one of them finally caved with exhaustion and the other held them and stroked their hair. It was routine and it was ridiculously simple, but it was _his_ simplicity. And Damien fucking _stole it_.

He looked down at his left arm, feeling that cooling rush breaking through him as the skin began to heal to itself back to its mortal state. He frowned, staring at the festering, oozing wound and shuddered. Damien said it'd take years of practice for him to be able to heal the old skin. He groaned under his breath, looking at Valefor tiredly. "So _wanting_ things makes this shit work, huh?" Valefor licked his cheek and the redhead stared at him drearily. "Thanks," he scoffed. He looked down again at his leg and twisted his lips in thought. "Val, help me up," he directed.

The dog slowly edged to the side against his back, Kyle's palms planting on the ground and his tired arms assisting Valefor's work. He groaned, grating his teeth as he finally made his way upright, panting in exhaustion. He looked back at Valefor lying behind him and patted his head, "Good boy," he cooed before turning and looking down at the fragmented mess of his leg. His face blanched a sickly white as he glanced through what remained of his pant leg, seeing the splotches of purple and brown bruising, the way that his thigh was going in two opposite directions. A wave of nausea swept over him and a cold child descended down his back. The worst he'd dealt with in his life was a fractured ulna and even _that_ was just nothing compared to the pounding torture his poor leg was suffering. He narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself down from adding vomit to the list of disgusting attributes he was already being forced to deal with.

Damien told him bones were harder to heal than skin, or at least that's what Kyle could only _assume_ he'd said. He'd been a little too busy screaming at the time to take many accurate notes. He looked at his stab wound again and let out a thoughtful 'hmm'. If wanting _simple_ things made skin tears heal, did that mean wanting _more_ would work on bone? He shrugged to himself. Worth a shot.

' _I want...world peace?'_ he winced, staring at his leg and pouting. Okay so not so vague maybe. _'I want Kenny,'_ he tried. He felt the slightest of a cool tingle and licked his lips. _'I want Kenny to win the war,'_ he thought, head filled all of a sudden with Kenny triumphantly hacking off Damien's stupid overinflated head and holding up his prize. The image made him shudder as the chill picked up his pace. _'I want Damien_ _ **dead**_ _,'_ he thought bitterly, his eyes shut in a glorious euphoria of imagination. _'I want to help him kill him. I want to slash his fucking throat open,'_ he growled, his fists clenching, feeling Valefor stiffening behind him at his stance. _'I want to rip out his fucking intestines and hang him from the ceiling and watch him fucking bleed out. I want him to fucking_ _ **suffer**_ _."_

He jolted a bit from the pictures splaying like graphic informative murder porn across his weary subconscious, looking down at his leg with wide eyes as it slowly numbed over and the bone shifted back into place. "Holy fuck," he whispered, blinking rapidly. He groaned, feeling the marrow of the bone fusing back together, every little nerve slowly waking itself back up. "Holy _shit_ ," he gaped, placing his hand against it and squeezing the skin. The agony was just _gone_. He gulped, looking at the bruises still prominent on his alabaster flesh and cocking his head, poking them lightly and hissing. It was nothing he couldn't deal with, but he couldn't help but wonder why the hell he was still covered in the markings. He shook himself out of his confusion, realizing that he fucking fixed a goddamn _bone,_ so bruises were the absolute furthest thing from a worry. He was more than used to dealing with the damn things with Kenny's over eagerness anyway.

He turned back to see Valefor watching him and grinned. "I did it, Dude," he whispered excitedly. His small nub of a tail wriggled back and forth at the happiness and relief lingering in his voice. The man turned over and got up on his knees carefully, testing weight on his leg and feeling breathless at the lack of pain. Anyone would've figured nothing had even happened to him at this rate. He fell forward a bit, landing on his hands and stretching his legs back one at a time, trying to work the feeling back into the both of them. So many months of limited movement were definitely starting to take its toll.

"Good to see you up and about," a voice broke in softly. Kyle and Valefor snapped their heads at the door to see Nathaneal staring at him with a soft, worried expression.

"Nathaneal," he smiled, hopping up shakily and slowly walking over to him. "Did you see Kenny?"

He nodded, "Yes. He was pleased with your message," he smirked weakly.

Kyle sighed in relief, glad that he had been able to make the slightest bit of contact with him. Living with the knowledge that the last thing they'd said to each other was in the midst of him being bartered as a hostage was not exactly pleasant to dwell upon. He looked up with shining eyes, Nathaneal focusing a bit on the marbled green sprawling down through his right. "Thank you," he breathed out. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much what you told me helped me..." he laughed awkwardly as the angel stood in silence. "I guess that sounds pretty gay, doesn't it?"

"Not at all," he said quietly. "You're in a desperate situation. Anyone would be elated to hear such things." Kyle nodded shyly, a small growl perking his ears. He looked back to see Valefor's fur standing on end and he cocked his head. "Valefor, calm down," he said. "You met him a few days ago, c'mon." Valefor seemed to ignore him, focusing on the angel warily. Kyle turned back and shrugged, "His eyes aren't glowing so I can only assume that means that you're safe."

Nathaneal laughed meekly and nodded. "Kyle..." he trailed off with a gulp.

"Yes?" he raised his brow before his eyes brightened a bit. "More from Ken?" he asked, excitement rising at the prospect.

"Y-yes," he nodded briskly. "Kyle, he told me to tell you..." he paused again, Kyle tilting his head and waving him on. He straightened himself out and stared at the redhead firmly. "He told me to tell you to start listening to what Damien says."

Kyle blinked. "What?"

"He said that you're in a predicament that you need to let go of your pride and just conform to what he wishes," he continued, watching Kyle's face dropping, a smear of pity slathering over his chest like mortar.

"But...But Kenny _hates-"_

"What he hates is you suffering," he interjected, raising his hand to stop the man. "And I think he's right. Let Damien train you so the pain stops, Kyle. Give him this little bit of leeway. You can't fight him if you just lie back and accept what's happening to you."

Kyle's expression fell between worry and frustration, looking at the ground carefully. He raised his brow as Valefor stepped over, standing between the angel and himself, growling up at the noirette. "Valefor, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked.

"Perhaps because I smell of Heaven," he shrugged.

"I guess," he murmured, letting out a lengthy sigh and placing a hand on Valefor's head. "So...he wants me to just...give in?" he winced.

"Action wise only," he said quietly. "Don't lose yourself in this mess."

He scratched through his oil-slicked hair and nodded. "If Kenny says it's for the best I'll just have to believe him," he murmured. "He certainly knows the rules of Hell better than I do," he grinned a little sheepishly. The angel gulped, nodding briskly.

"He and God came to this conclusion," he said. "Better to learn from the enemy than be struck down."

He nodded again, "That makes sense. I don't _like_ it but...I'll take any advice I can get, especially from Kenny," he smiled a bit dreamily and Nathaneal's stomach lurched.

"I have to go scout around," he said. "Before someone sees me..." Kyle smiled and nodded gently at him and he gulped. "Please...be careful," he whispered.

"I'll do my best," he promised softly.

Nathaneal gave him a small wave before taking off away from his door, letting his wings propel him far from his little hole in the wall. He flew a decent distance, chest whirling in guilt before a large paw grabbed him from the sky, tearing him down and throwing him onto the stone. He groaned, leaning up and seeing Gragor and Damien watching him amusedly. "So," Damien smiled sweetly. "Did you tell our little friend the instructions?"

He scowled, "You know I did," he muttered. "Now let me return home."

"Ah but where would the _fun_ be in that?" he questioned deviously. Nathaneal watched him carefully as he slowly rose onto his feet, unfortunately more than aware he couldn't outrun the two in front of him.

He growled, "You said if I told Kyle-"

"I _know_ what I said," he bit sharply. "I told you I would let you fly off and I wouldn't snap his pretty little neck. I intend to keep _both_ promises."

He blinked, "Then let me-"

He held up his hand to stop him once again. "I said you could fly off. I never specified _where_ ," he grinned slyly. "Gragor," he motioned him forward. Nathaneal backed up a few steps, gulping and pivoting, trying to take flight before being grabbed again and held by the arms in Gragor's massive paws.

"Let go!" he hissed, shaking about and trying to break loose.

Damien scanned him up and down, taking a step forward. "I gotta hand it to your little disguise department. You pull off a minion very well. Shame that you decided to go for _my_ little toy," he raised his brow. "You think I wasn't _watching_ him to see if he healed?" he scoffed derisively. "This is why your kind will lose this war: You harbor too much faith, blinded by hope."

Nathaneal sneered, " _You_ will be the one who falls when Ken gets a hand on you. He's already beyond furious."

Damien leaned forward and smiled, "Then he's _really_ gonna blow a gasket at my plans for his little squeeze." Nathaneal snarled before letting out an agonized howl as a sudden clawed hand speared into his chest, Damien's hand clutching around his ribcage. _"Tolle animam suam, interficiendam animam. Constituet eum ad purgatorio,"_ he hissed, squeezing his fingers down and letting the bones creak and splinter beneath his touch. He watched with a wild, starving grin as those fake red eyes faded into a deep brown before thick lashes came down atop of them, the angel's body convulsing and quivering. A final, hushed, ragged breath escaped before he finally fell limp, Damien taking his hand back and Gragor tossing the stilled body onto the ground.

Gragor kicked his arm a bit and smirked at Damien admiring his bloodstained claws. "What should I do with him, Master Damien?"

He glanced at him from the sides of his eyes and shrugged. "I think he'd make excellent kindling, don't you?" he grinned evilly. Gragor laughed and nodded as Damien looked back in the direction of Kyle's prison. He raised his hand, licking a sample of blood from his finger and laughing under his breath. _'The trap is set, Little mouse. So come and get it.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Tolle animam suam - Take his life
> 
> Interficiendam animam - Destroy the soul
> 
> Constituet eum - Appoint him to purgatory


	27. Seeking a Stronghold

**Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall. -** _**Psalms 55:22** _

Standing opposite the tall noirette with Resurrection clutched tightly in his hand, Kenny's eyes sharply scanned over his target. Gabriel stood with a small smirk riding his lips, tapping Rationale lightly against his leg. "You gonna do anythin'?" Ken called over.

"Well, I was waiting for you. Being so inexperienced and all I thought I'd give you the first strike out of pity," the angel teased.

Kenny pouted, "Inexperienced is not a word I take lightly, Buddy. _Regardless_ of circumstance."

Gabriel grinned, raising his sword up and resting it on his shoulder. He raised his free hand and folded his fingers in, beckoning the braced man. "Well, prove me wrong," he challenged, raising a thick brow.

Kenny hopped a bit on his toes, rearing Resurrection back and launching forward, his wings giving him a nice boost of speed towards the cocky ebony. He growled, swinging his blade towards Gabriel's arm, who easily moved and parried it off. Kenny soared over him, landing down on his feet and pushing off once more towards his back. Gabriel quickly pivoted around, clashing Rationale against his blade, a loud _schling_ dripping into the air as the metals slivered against one another. They both hopped back a bit as their weapons lost contact, slowly circling around.

"Come on then," Gabriel taunted. "Raphael said you were actually _improving_."

He scoffed, "I have. I'm just too distracted by yer perm, there," he jerked his chin up towards his hair. Gabriel raised an amused brow. "Sorry, it just looks so much like pubes I kinda don't wanna hurt you," he feigned a pout. "I'm sure the embarrassment is painful enough."

"You're one to talk," he said snidely, moving forward and bringing his sword down over his head. Kenny swung his blade up to meet, wincing a bit as Gabriel kept the weight bearing down, his arm contorting uncomfortably to keep it from landing on his head. "Look at you," he continued, "Do you _bathe_ in oil or are you just naturally so abhorrent?"

"'Ay," he bit, mind slipping to Kyle as he'd been forcing it to and his eyes fading right off into glassy obscurity. His light beamed through his blade, pushing himself back up straight and letting his power speak for itself as it sent the angel stumbling back a bit. "Blame my Pops," he smirked. "The McCormicks are known for bein' grease monkeys." He licked his lips, jumping forward and slamming his still-invigorated weapon against Gabriel's, watching the phantom sparks fly between the both of them as they pushed against one another.

He chuckled, sliding off and leaping out of the way, Kenny nearly losing his balance before his wings set him back afoot. "Seems to me you're just a monkey in general," he replied cooly. "You certainly have the manners, not to mention the foul stench."

"No, Gabe. It ain't a 'stench'," he raised his brows. "It's called having a natural musk. See, it's a scent that _men_ have. I understand why you'd be so confused though," he taunted. "I mean, _all_ of you up here wear dresses and talk like yer stuck bein' housewives of the middle ages so I can't be _too_ surprised."

"Hm," he mused, scanning over him with a coy smile. "You wanna talk surprised, huh?" Kenny cocked his head, looking at him suspiciously and raising his sword a bit higher in a cautious defense. "Try this," he grinned mischievously, his eyes flashing a stunningly bright blue as he quickly slammed Rationale onto the clouded floor. Kenny blinked before feeling the ground shaking violently beneath him, eyes widening at a riptide of cloud heading straight for him. He yelped lightly, trying to pick a direction to fly off towards. He found himself being but a second too late as he was being slammed into by a powerful surge and nearly drowning in the vapors, the pressure around his body crushing down into his bones. He felt a vibration rippling through him before he was suddenly breaking the surface, whipped out of his moist prison and falling backwards onto his wings with a groan.

He raised his head a bit, wincing at Gabriel's triumphant grin before letting his skull smack back down onto the ground. "You...suck..." he breathed out, his lungs aching. He gave a small sneer as the noirette popped over him and held out his hand.

"Come now, Kenneth, don't be upset," he cooed in a light tone. The blonde rolled his eyes, taking his hand and letting him guide his shaking body back onto his feet.

He looked between him and the clouds, raising his brow. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Sound," he smirked, poking Rationale's hilt. He gestured to the floor, "There's a low and strong enough frequency I can emit that breaks the clouds that are in my sword's path's stability. Very effective for immobilizing an enemy for enough time to swoop behind the shock wave and attack them."

He smiled, "Devious. I like it." He paused and twisted his mouth a bit, "Question."

"Yes?" he asked, delicately slapping his blade against an open palm.

"I thought the swords can't hurt us," he asked in bewilderment. "Why did that hurt so much? And try to friggin' drown me?"

"The blades _themselves_ do not hurt, but our abilities can," he explained with a gentle smile. "Our swords are very special," he held Rationale up a bit, looking at the green lines sweeping through the hilt and tracing a finger over them fondly. "They're blessed by God."

He blinked, "But...so are we."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Blessing an item and blessing a person are two completely different things, Kenneth. A sacred item such as these are to be used, it is crafted with a special purpose and to be used for that alone. _We_ are given specific directions, yes, but we still harbor free will. That's where the difference lies. An item cannot decide who it harms, so we make the choice for it. Living beings cannot be expected to live by such guidelines."

Kenny nodded slowly, tapping Resurrection against his calf. "But...what if a person _is_ being used for a specific purpose and that alone?" he asked quietly.

Gabriel frowned a bit, seeing the wheels turning in that greasy blonde head. "He's not an item, Kenny," he said softly, looking at the blonde raising his head in surprise. He bit his lip, struggling to find the right words of comfort, but instead finding himself merely wanting to blurt out the true and simple facts that he knew. "Damien is a master of incantation," he admitted. "For his short lifespan he's surpassed even his father in the art of sorcery."

"Yeah, because he's bored," he muttered, remembering watching Damien on several occasions trying new spells to temporarily sate his malicious appetite. He was always dissatisfied with whatever level he was on, always looking for some new way to wreak some form of chaos. As much as Kenny hated to admit it, he'd admired the demon to an extent. He was constantly trying to better his art, consistently striving for the pinnacle of what he considered to be perfection. He groaned under his breath and rolled his eyes, knowing full and well that Kyle was the exact same goddamn way. It was one of the many reasons he would extol the living hell out of the redhead to anyone who was willing to listen to his rambles. He looked back at Gabriel and frowned deeper, "What if he's mastered it enough to surpass that?" he asked. "I mean, he's creating an army out of unwilling mortals," he reminded him.

"I doubt he can make it so they can't hurt demons," he shrugged.

"But demons can't kill other demons," he recounted.

He smirked a bit sadly, "Doesn't mean they can't hurt them. I hate to say this, but look at how he's hurt Kyle," he winced at the anger subtly racking through Kenny's body. "Kyle is almost on his level of power," he sighed. "I feel as though even if one of the lower level mortals he converts manages to get a strike at him, Damien will bleed just as well as if you yourself were to do so."

"I hope he bleeds," he murmured tiredly. "I hope he bleeds like a fucking stuck pig and then Ky and I can tap dance on his fucking corpse." He sighed, leaning his head back and looking at the clear sky tiredly. "I know what Kyle told Nate to tell me but..."

"But you can't help but worry," he finished, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Kenny, that's completely understandable."

He looked back at him and raised an unamused brow. "Cool, mind passing that on to Uriel the Urinal?"

He stifled a small laugh under his breath, straightening back up and staring at the blonde as he tried to retain his demeanor. He cleared his throat, "Don't worry about what Uriel says," he advised. "Worry about you and what you're working on."

Kenny nodded slowly, staring into the opposing blue eyes and heaving an arduous breath. "I just feel like Damien's going to, for a lack of a better fucking term, set everything on fire, ya know?" he winced. "I feel like Kyle's just saying what he said to make me feel better."

"And what if he is?" he questioned. "He wants you to remain strong, he told you that himself when Damien brought him in front of you." He watched Kenny shift a bit uncomfortably at the memory and sighed, his damn logic poking through his urge to comfort the blonde. "Can I be honest with you?"

"I encourage it," he smiled meekly.

He licked his lips a bit and shrugged casually, "I think Kyle told Nathaneal what he did to keep you afloat. I personally think he's down there and scared out of his mind."

The smile dropped, "Thanks for the pick-me-up, Gabe. Wanna do a toast at our wedding with that cheery attitude while you're at it?" he asked dryly.

He snorted a bit, shaking his head. "My point is that despite that, he's thinking of ways to keep _you_ going. Nathaneal told you how demons harness their powers, yes?"

Ken rolled his eyes, "Yeah. By acting like a stuck-up, gotta-have-it-all bitch like Damien."

"Precisely," he nodded curtly. "We've told you that Kyle resisted enough to hold onto himself. God mentioned how he broke from Damien's binds on his body as well. He's suffering but he's working through it, and he wants _you_ to do the same."

He nodded with his words, blue eyes flickering back to the sky. "Yeah I guess. It's just hard not being able to see him, ya know? I just keep picturing him bleeding out like he was and...and _screaming_ like that and..." He paused, clenching his eyes shut and feeling his power flickering deep within him. "I know that's what I need to focus on, I _know_ I need to think of that to get this shit running but...Fuck, I just wish I could see him. Have _some_ hope that Damien isn't just slashing him open for fun. I can think of when _I_ upset him to get my powers flowing," he wriggled his fingers for effect. "The idea of that freak hurting him doesn't make me protective it just makes me furious, ya know?" he winced. "God, what if Damien's just...bleeding him out and keeping him down and kicking him around and..." he stopped again, narrowing his eyes as such visions plagued him. Raphael was _beyond_ right. Thinking about Kyle out of his element like that was just a lot to handle, but that damn lingering hope and knowledge that Kyle was a ruthless to-the-end fighter was still fishing in and out of his soul like a buoy.

"Well...why don't we finish up here and we'll see if God can spare you a glance, hm?" Gabriel offered in a forced chipper tone, his own imagination doing nothing to quell the tense air standing between the both of them. "I know it's not exactly what you want, but it's as good as it can be for now."

He smiled a bit and nodded before it dropped again. "Why do you think Damien's getting so close to him?" he asked quietly. "You're the one with Rationale," he tapped the blade with his own sword and Gabriel gulped, all of a sudden wishing that he _wasn't_ the one in his position. There were so few means to go about making sense of the actions taking place down in the fires of Hell that even _he_ couldn't seem to make a coherent thought out of it all. Kenny continued, "I mean there's torturing someone and then there's...this," he cringed, his face twisting in disgust and a deep-seated, instinctual nausea bubbling within his stomach.

Gabriel chuckled awkwardly, biting his lip softly. "I wish I knew," he admitted. "Damien is one for relishing in his prizes. Taking something, -er, some _one_ from you is certainly a prize for him. Maybe that's it."

Kenny's eyes glossed over a bit. As true as that statement was, it begged the question: "How many people bite their prizes?" he asked emptily. Gabriel just stared at him, at a complete loss for how to answer that one, regardless of how logical of an inquiry it was. Kenny sighed, beating Resurrection against the ground in a steady, slow rhythm. "I have such a bad feeling about this," he murmured. "I don't know what it is but _something_ is gonna go wrong, I just know it."

"Can't get much worse than it already is, Ken," he input quietly.

He huffed out a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. "You really don't know Damien, do you?" he smirked sadly. "With him, it can always go one step further. Someone isn't screaming loud enough being whipped? He'll take off their skin and _then_ whip 'em. Get right on the nerves, ya know?" he bit his lip. "If he's trying to break Ky...how far is he gonna go?"

Gabriel stood in silence, knowing full and well that the blonde was right, and that the answer was up in the air for only Damien to know. "Well, let's focus on this, hm?" he suggested, trying to change the subject and get Kenny's playful attitude back. He flicked the hand holding Kenny's sword, "We'll finish here and head off to ask God to check in. How's that?"

Kenny smiled gratefully at the offer, dragging his sword behind him as they headed back into the center of the arena. He bit the inside of his cheek, watching the angel in front of him carefully. He had a feeling Gabriel had an idea of what was going through Damien's twisted little mind. He couldn't help but shudder, unable to get the visual of Damien going for Kyle's throat out of his head as he'd been struggling with for days. Unfortunately for the blonde, he couldn't bring himself to admit that he had his own ideas of Damien's intentions. And he couldn't help but think that Gabriel was wrong, that Kyle hadn't even _started_ to get scared of what the demon could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *we're finally past the halfway point yay!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	28. Pay Reluctant Heed

**Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls as those who will give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with grief, for this would be unprofitable for you. -** _**Hebrews 13:17** _

Kyle bounced a bit in place, crossing his arms over his bare chest and letting out a long, tired breath. Conceding to Damien, regardless of Kenny's instructions, was something that the redhead was _not_ going to be able to do easily. All he wanted was to see that smug black-haired son of a bitch ground into a fine powder and swept off in a gust of wind. He groaned, turning his attention down to Valefor sitting next to him. "I don't wanna," he whined a bit, the dog looking up at him and blinking. "I know _you_ like him but you're not exactly his prisoner," he half-lectured, tapping his foot against the floor anxiously. "I mean...this is like letting him _win_ , ya know?" he winced. "Kenny knows how much I can't stand being told what to do," he started snapping a bit, looking back out his door and scowling. "Why the fuck would he tell me to be compliant with my fucking warden?" He paused as he felt Valefor's cold nose press against his hip and he sighed irritably, letting a hand drop to his head. "Because it's my life," he answered himself dully.

He knew it was true. This wasn't Cartman trying to belittle him and make him his damn slave again. It wasn't his mother ordering him to meticulously research the mile-long list of kosher caterers she'd managed to scrounge up. And it certainly wasn't Kenny making the dire mistake of making demands to Kyle when he didn't allow it. This was a game being played with a spoiled child who'd happily slit his throat time and again if he didn't try to adhere to his rules at least a little bit. He sneered to himself. Kyle was down below Damien whether he liked it or not, but the Jew just _hated_ to lose. He huffed, rubbing Valefor's ear between his forefinger and thumb. Kenny's advice or not, he wasn't going to just let this go easily. He tongued over his lips.

He could learn to play the game, he could play _just_ enough that Damien would keep from completely destroying him, but still be able to find his way out. After all, Kyle knew that's what he'd grown to be an expert at while everyone his age in high school somehow got taller and bigger and he managed to come to a full stop. He could easily work under the guise of the weaker, more helpless one before managing to turn it all around and slam Damien's face into the pavement. He staunchly ignored the voice of reason screaming at him that he really _was_ helpless against Damien's power. He clenched his hand free from sating Valefor's ridiculously high needy ways, feeling the evidence poking into the thin flesh. _He_ had powers now, too. He'd find a way to get a handle on them and turn Damien's 'brilliant' little idea right against him.

He took a deep breath, looking down at Valefor's content face once more. "C'mon, I want a drink before I do this bullshit," he murmured, leading the dog out of his prison and back into the red, blazing heat. They silently made their way over towards the pond around the side of the cave and Kyle dropped to his knees in front of it. He made quick work to start pouring the sustenance down his throat, looking over through the sides of his eyes to see Valefor bending to do the same. The two of them continued relishing in the temporary relief, letting themselves sink into the tranquil moment. Kyle's overactive mind quelled in the slightest, letting him believe for just a moment that everything was all right. Reality came crashing back far too soon for his tastes, but just that moment was enough to help reinvigorate him alongside the water. He turned his attention to washing his hair and blood-stained body, wishing a little too desperately that he had some of his goddamn soap.

Valefor finished drinking, smacking his lips and sitting down beside him, panting as he watched the man cleaning himself off. Kyle raised his brow and snorted, "I don't even let Kenny watch me shower, Dude, have some goddamn restraint." Valefor leaned forward and licked a trail of water running down his cheek and Kyle groaned, softly batting his muzzle. "Dude, c'mon! Your tongue is as big as my fucking face!" he insisted. His fingers brushed over Valefor's scar and the dog flinched in the slightest. Kyle stopped his ridiculously girlish flailing and cocked his head. He cupped the dog's chin and turned his muzzle a bit, staring at the long scar and his face falling pitiably, seeing blood still encrusted in the midst of his fur. "Guess that fuck was right," he murmured. "I know just how you feel."

He reached down his leg, grabbing a section of his jeans down by his heel hanging on by a mere few threads and made quick work to tear it off. He bent down and wet the makeshift rag, still holding onto Valefor's chin. "I've done this for Kenny so damn much I'm an expert," he promised him with a small smirk. He brought up the denim and very gently began wiping the excess blood from his face. Valefor kept flinching with the contact, kept from thrashing only by Kyle's thumb gently sliding along his fur. "You're fine," he cooed. "You're a better patient than Ken, that's for damn sure," he commented, moving his way down the scar and rubbing in soothing circular motions. He kept his voice moving noting how Valefor seemed worse in the still silence, "Once, I touched a cut with antiseptic and he freaked out so much he jerked up and gave me a black eye." He snorted a bit and shook his head with a smile, remembering Kenny nearly crying in an absolute panic after the fact, trying to wait on the redhead hand and foot for weeks for what he'd done. "He's an idiot," he chuckled softly, Valefor watching him silently as he continued to work. He smiled fondly to himself and let out a quiet sigh. "But he's my idiot. And that idiot's gonna kill that fucking asshole and get me home," he said firmly.

He finished wiping off his scar down the length of his neck and pulled away. "See? Wasn't so bad, was it?" Valefor just licked his face again, wagging his tail at his lighthearted voice. He chuckled, tossing the scrap of denim behind him and getting to his feet, raking his fingers through his damp hair. "Usually I make Ken pancakes for not having a shitfit over first aid but I don't think I can do that for ya, Dude."

"I doubt you could make enough to feed him regardless," that damn voice poked through the two of them. They glanced over to see Damien standing there looking far too nonchalant for Kyle's tastes. "I'm proud of you, Little mouse," he smiled. "You healed yourself _much_ quicker than expected." Kyle rolled his eyes, continuing to work through his hair and turning his attention down to the dog still at his feet. Damien watched him, taking slow steps closer; A ravenous shark gliding swiftly towards his seal. "Tell me, how did you feel seeing what you could do?" he ventured.

Kyle glanced at him, fiddling with a knot and trying to press his claw through to undo it. "Like a freak of nature," he muttered.

"But a _strong_ 'freak of nature', hm?" he smirked. Kyle managed to fight through the tangle and sighed irritably, running his fingers all throughout his hair while Damien gaped a bit at him, watching the auburn waves smoothly flowing around his scalp at his dictation. Kyle looked to see him staring and moved a bit closer to Valefor in uneasiness, dropping from his curls.

He cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest again. "Can I help you?" he asked cooly.

Damien broke from his stupor and smirked, "Looks like you have something on your mind, Little mouse," he cooed. "Can _I_ help _you_?"

"Yeah, you can take me the fuck home," he scoffed stubbornly.

He rolled his eyes, "Not happening." Kyle bristled a bit, glancing down at the dog for a few moments before looking back up, nearly falling back into the lake as Damien had appeared only a foot away from him. The noirette raised an amused brow. "So. What is it, Little one?" Kyle kept his mouth shut doggedly, eyes fleeting anywhere but Damien's. He didn't want to do this. He wanted to just rip this fucker apart. Fingers on his chin brought his attention back forward, gulping at the famished glaze over ruby irises. "Well?" he urged.

He took a deep breath through his nose, unable to help but envision Kenny begging him to keep himself alive until he could get to him. He was out of options and Damien had him backed against the wall. Even Kyle's stubbornness could tell this was just going to have to happen. Goddammit. He looked into those eyes already beaming with victory, suppressing a long growl under his breath. "Train me," he muttered.

Damien's cheshire grin sent his heart beating in a furious terror that he absolutely refused to let show. "Once more, Little mouse?"

He growled, clenching his fists and ignoring Valefor's nose on his hand trying to coax it back open. "Train me, you sack of shit," he spat.

The demon chuckled devilishly, scraping his claws along Kyle's throat. "And just what changed your mind?" he questioned.

"That's none of your concern," he said primly, ripping his head from Damien's hold before a hand swept around the back of his neck, pulling him forward a bit.

"I suppose you're right," he shrugged casually. "All that matters is you know who you belong to," he smirked, watching with excitement as Kyle's eyes flickered with light.

He snarled, "I'm not yours."

He feigned a cute little pout, brushing damp curls away from his face, wanting to see the anger in full. "Denial gets you nowhere, Little one. Fact is all that matters here, you know this."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Yeah. _I'm_ the one in denial. Not the one who's signing his own fucking death warrant and blindfolding himself for the fucking firing squad."

"Oh really?" he challenged.

"You're so deep in denial that fucking Copiapó is sending you down resources," he snapped, pushing him off and leaping off to the side to get himself out of the corner.

Damien snorted derisively. "You want me to train you, hm?" he asked. Kyle remained silent, watching him carefully for any indication of an attack coming his way. "Then come here," he folded his finger.

"I'm not a dog!" he bit.

"Then maybe you should cut down on the growling," he smirked. "Wouldn't want to have to chain you up and muzzle you again, would we?" Kyle glared darkly at him and the demon merely chuckled. "Now, come _here_ ," he repeated in a firmer tone.

Kyle looked from Valefor back to him, staunchly reminding himself of why he was doing this. Kenny and God came to this conclusion and he trusted the two of them more than even himself. Some things he was just going to have to bend on. He swallowed his pride, keeping his scowl prominent as he took deliberate, steadying steps towards the monster. Damien watched his sluggish tempo but felt his own pulse thumping out of control. Watching him _submit_ , beating down his self-respect to follow his orders...the demon let out a small shudder. This was his first taste of what could come, and all he could think about was the second course.

Kyle finally made it in front of him, silently watching as Damien seemed to stare straight through him. He tightened his posture, returning the look and not daring to back down. He already lost one thing, he wasn't about to lose another right off the goddamn bat. "Good boy," Damien grinned coyly. Kyle flinched but kept his eyes locked, digging his tongue into the underside of a fang furiously. "Now, turn around," he directed, spinning his finger in the air.

Kyle blinked, "Excuse me?"

"Turn around and let me take the burden of free will from you," he said smoothly.

He blanched a bit before sneering in frustration. "You said if I agreed to be compliant you wouldn't fucking do that-"

"As often," he cut him off. "But you've been so naughty and resistant lately I haven't been able to practice with you. So, turn around. The quicker you comply, the quicker I end the pain," he raised his brow. Kyle's breathing picked up its pace, looking between Damien and the sky. He didn't want to do this. _God_ he didn't want to. "Now or I turn you myself," Damien snapped.

Kyle's shoulders trembled, forcing his dissent down. His options were just too few and far in-between here, he knew well enough he didn't have much choice. He took a wavering breath, slowly pivoting on his foot, looking at the ground in shame. Damien's grin nearly hurt his face, staring in blatant interest at the lines of scars splayed across Kyle's slim back like a textured painting. He couldn't help but feel his stomach twirling in excitement. This was _his_ masterpiece. He was the artist of this canvas of a stubborn mortal who was lost beyond all hope. He got to control every little minute detail, sculpt every line, fuss over every stroke. He walked up right behind him, taking a long breath through his nose and smelling Kyle's natural spice leaking off of him. His first whiff of victory; Almost enough to topple him over.

"Good boy," he whispered against the back of his neck, watching Kyle's shudder in interest. He placed his hand against Kyle's scar, biting his lip in near-ecstasy at the feeling of their power melding together, feeling every ounce of Kyle flooding his system, overriding his reason for a moment. Kyle clenched his eyes, feeling the same effect but with nothing but nausea. It was too much, too much fire and energy slamming down onto him at once, like shots of espresso lined up for miles that he was being force to swallow down in a row. Among the rush he could feel the burning inside of him quelling in the slightest, hating the fact that he found _relief_ in the midst of this insanity. He could feel his body _trying_ to shiver, only able to do so with his head and groan lightly as Damien slowly began to cull his veins from inside of him. Kyle whimpered, feeling them uncoiling from within, seeming eager to go to their puppeteer's hand.

Valefor watched him, whining softly in confusion. Kyle glanced over through his pain, giving him a small 'shhh'. The dog simply sat and watched, deep eyes flickering worriedly between the two standing together. Damien chuckled, "Now, we're going to test dividing the power," he said simply, winding strands around his fingers. He let a bundle of them drop from his hand and Kyle blinked as his legs sprang back into feeling. "Can you move them?" Damien asked simply. The redhead kicked a little with each foot and nodded. "Very good," he said approvingly, bringing up a hand and petting through his hair.

Kyle sneered, looking back over his shoulder, "Don't you _fucking_ pet me!" he shouted.

Damien watched him with a smug grin, beginning to move his fingers and watch as Kyle's upper body began jerking around with his direction, the redhead yelping as skin began to tear. "Do you want me to be kind or not?" he asked cooly. Kyle whined, his free legs shaking in their pain. "Answer me, Little one," he plucked the strands again.

A bare hint of a 'yes' floated between them, held down by Kyle trying to contain his pained sobs.

Damien shuddered, "Then behave," he said lowly, petting his head again and nearly groaning as Kyle begrudgingly allowed the hand to remain. "Let's see if we can keep you conscious," he murmured almost to himself. He licked his lips, looking around the wasteland surrounding them. "All right, look at the water." Kyle blinked, turning to do so. "Was that on your own?"

"Yes," he muttered tiredly.

Damien nodded, sharp mind whirring. "Take a step forward." Kyle took a deep breath, shakily inching forward, trying to stay close enough to Damien's hand he wouldn't continue to rip his skin. The demon bit his lip in thought. "Raise your right hand and keep it up there." Kyle's eyes fell dull and he immediately raised it, staring off into nothingness. Valefor let out a large, panicked bark, something feeling off. "Hush," Damien held up his hand to the dog, keeping the veins in his hand and circling around the frozen redhead, strands slicing along with him. He stood in front of the man and let out a thoughtful 'hmm'. "Step forward," he directed. Kyle stood perfectly still, hand still raised and eyes glazed over as Damien watched him.

He nodded to himself. "All right, hand down." Life sparked back in his eyes and his arm dropped, hissing as he looked to see the new tears along his waist and arms. Damien couldn't help but smirk, "Stubborn little mouse," he murmured.

"H-huh?" he blinked, dazed with the blood pouring out of him once again. Damien noticed his legs shaking and sighed irritably.

"Get on your knees, Little one."

Kyle's face erupted in color. "I don't think so!"

"Either you do it or _I_ do," he reminded him harshly. Kyle's lips curled in on each other, shakily letting himself drop to the ground, thankful when Damien's hands followed his movement to keep him from tearing even worse. The demon knelt down in front of him, scanning over his body and the strings in his hands. "So stubborn," he repeated, shaking his head.

The redhead frowned, "You're one to talk."

He chuckled, "Perhaps you're right. But I'm not the one who resisted a spell, Little one," he reached with his free hand and flicked Kyle's forehead. "Whoever heard of a puppet who can move the strings its master doesn't use?"

"What are you talking about?" he frowned confusedly.

He smirked, "If you're conscious and I let go of your strings, you can move whatever I relinquish. But if I'm controlling something of you that's _not_ free, you can't do anything with those I let go of, not even what I tell you to."

"So?" he raised his brow, hating the fact that he was having this conversation about how much control of his fucking body was being relinquished to the maniac in front of him.

"So, you're only a true puppet when I have you completely tangled up, Princess," he scoffed. "Guess you're gonna have to get used to it..." He paused, "Not like you have a choice," he shrugged.

"Or you could be a fucking _man_ and fight your own fucking battles instead of dragging me into it," he spat.

He smirked, "Now where would the fun be in that? And that'd just be a waste of your potential, Little one," he reached forward and slid his hand up through Kyle's hair, noting his panicked breathing beginning to once again pick up its pace. He chuckled, "You know, it's funny." Kyle twisted his face in befuddlement as he continued, "You know how they say they have someone in their hands?" He grinned slyly, "Who would've known we could make that so literal?" he held up his domineering palm.

Kyle growled, "All right, you did your fucking tests, let me out!"

"No," he said sharply, tugging Kyle up towards him, his legs flailing trying to pull away from the demon but merely sliding around frantically. He looked the redhead down into his marbled eye, fingers caressing through the thick locks intertwined around them. He let out a low, hungry murmur, "I need to see just how far I can take you."


	29. Nearing the Den

_**Be of sober spirit, be on the alert Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour**_. **-** _ **Peter 5:8**_

Walking the long flight of marble steps towards God's domain, Kenny couldn't decide where exactly to place his feelings. If God let him see Kyle, there were just way too many ways that it could go. He could be lying alone recovering, he could be torn to pieces, he could be being tortured. The blonde shuddered. Too many options and he had no idea what to even hope for. He knew what he _wanted_ to see: Kyle at fucking home bored and waiting for him. He sighed, the back part of his mind yelling that he should've known from the beginning that this situation wouldn't have been so cut and dry. There was way too much on the line for it not to effect him beyond being drafted and having a pair of wings slapped on his back.

"You all right?" Gabriel's voice breeched his thoughts.

He nodded a bit, "I guess. Just...kinda wish I was like God, ya know?" he laughed awkwardly.

He cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, not with all the responsibility because hell no would I be able to handle all of that," he waved dismissively. "But I wish I was omnipotent and just... _knew_ what was happening all the time, ya know?" he winced.

Gabriel nodded in understanding as they came to the landing of the stairs and headed off to the side together. "I believe that we all wish for that at some point, but sometimes not knowing is better." Ken looked at him and he shrugged, "You said it yourself, look at all the responsibility it entails. God can only handle so much, He's constantly disappointing people by not intervening. Sometimes you can tell He feels as though He's let down His children...Look at how He felt when Kyle was taken," he said sympathetically.

Kenny nodded slowly, "I don't blame Him," he assured him. "I did at first but...But I know it was stupid to think that."

"Not stupid, _human_ ," he smiled. "When you're out of options, you turn to the unexplained to place the blame. It's just how you mortals work, and there's nothing wrong with that. In small doses," he added. "You are smart enough to know that this war spawns from Damien and him alone. You know where to direct your anger."

He smirked sadly, "Yeah. Being in the dark is just hard."

"It can be," he agreed. "But it keeps you focused as well. It's a blessing and a curse."

"I guess," he shrugged, looking up as they came towards the massive door. He glanced to a soldier on the side and winced guiltily. "Hey, Dude?" he asked, getting the guard's attention. "Sorry I like, threw you across the floor last time I was here," he cringed.

The guard smiled kindly and waved the notion away. "You're fine, Archangel Kenneth."

He rolled his eyes a bit, "So damn fancy," he muttered to himself. He looked to see Gabriel chuckling and pouted. "I have enough trouble when people call me _Sir_ , Dude. I ain't one for titles...Unless they're coming from Kyle," he added as an afterthought, glancing over to see Gabriel shaking his head and he snorted to himself. They pushed into the room and looked to see their little group standing together at the back of the room once more. They gave each other a small glance and headed further in. "Yo," Kenny called casually. They all turned and looked at him and the blonde caught the dismay on their faces at once. Oh no. "What...what's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"You," Uriel spat.

Kenny blinked and pointed to himself, "Me? What'd I do?"

"You got Nathaneal _killed_ that's what you did!" he bit. Kenny's face blanched over, his mouth gaping as he searched for words. The word kept echoing, the dirty, _vile_ word that he'd heard so many damn times throughout his life and deaths.

"Uriel, that's enough!" Raphael snapped. He turned to the devastated blonde and shook his head, "Ken, it's not your fault," he assured him. He walked up and placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"What happened?" he whispered hoarsely.

God took a deep breath, "Damien saw Nathaneal talking to Kyle."

His face dropped even further. He didn't even _think_ of that being a possibility. He should've known better. The guilt started weighing on him more than he could bear, his throat trying to close in misery. He knew Damien better than any of these people and he made such a dire mistake and cost someone their _life_. "I'm sorry," he managed to croak out. "Fuck, I'm _so_ sorry..." tears welled in his eyes and he looked over the group. "I _never_ would've asked if-"

He stopped as God held up a paw, a sad smile over His face. "Kenneth, Damien knew of him before then I'm sure. He formulated a plan far too quickly to not have."

Kenny blinked, sniffling and wiping his welled eyes with the back of his wrist. "What plan?"

Michael sighed, "He got Nathaneal to do something for him by threatening Kyle and promising to let him fly back home. Something that helped him skip a lot of time for a goal he would've had to work for," he frowned.

"What are you talking about?" he narrowed his eyes.

"He got Nathaneal to lie to Kyle," Raphael explained softly, watching those blue eyes fly to his own in panic. "He told him that you wanted him to conform to Damien's training to keep himself alive."

Kenny let out a forced laugh. "Well...I know Kyle. And...he doesn't _care_ what I think. He does what he wants-"

He stopped as Raphael shook his head. "He listened, Ken."

Kenny's face dropped further, looking over the group and starting to shake. "No," he shook his head. "N-no. Kyle _doesn't_ -"

"He was desperate," Michael intervened, cutting the poor man off. "He was willing to hang on to every word 'you' said."

The blonde looked from him down to God on the table and took a deep breath. "Can I see him?" he whispered.

God nodded, turning and holding His paw, eyes flashing as that ebbing portal sprung to life once again. Kenny slowly made his way to the front of the lot beside God, sitting on the table beside of Him and biting his lip as Kyle appeared on the vision, looking scared and tired and hurt and angry all at once. Kenny raised his brow, "Nate said Damien broke his femur," he noted as Kyle slowly shifted on his legs.

"He must be harboring control of the powers already," Barachiel murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.

They all shot their heads back to the vision as Kyle hissed in pain, wincing at the sight of veins shredding through his pale flesh. _"Come on, Little mouse,"_ Damien cooed. _"Stand up like a good boy."_

Kenny's face fell into a vicious scowl at the words so casually being uttered. His heart dropped as he watched Kyle struggling up onto his feet, panting and looking up exhaustively at his captor. _"Let me out_ ," he whispered, dizzy with blood loss and fighting off a horribly ominous feeling clutching at his stomach.

" _No,"_ he replied smartly. _"Turn once more._ " Kyle groaned, pivoting with extreme effort and trying to have his veins following the already carved out lines.

"Kyle, what are you doing?" Kenny whispered, shaking his head as he watched his fiancé following orders, albeit begrudgingly.

"Keeping himself from being skinned alive, that's what he's doing," Gabriel input, standing between Michael and Raphael to the side with his arms crossed. "He doesn't have much choice here, Kenny."

The blonde's shoulders dropped, scanning over his redhead with pained eyes. Those red eyes, those fangs, those _claws_. He shuddered, wondering if he could ever get him back to the way that he looked before, to not let him see day after day just what Damien had done to him. _"What are you even doing?!"_ Kyle suddenly spat.

" _Seeing how far we can make this go_ ," Damien replied casually. He looked at Kyle's legs, his eyes glowing. Kyle screamed as the veins tore back out and attached to Damien's hands. Valefor stood in the background hopping around and giving short, breathy barks as Kyle groaned in pain. _"Shut him up_ ," Damien snapped.

Kyle turned to the dog and took labored breaths, _"Down, stay_ " he directed in a rasp. Valefor whined, sitting himself down and fidgeting nervously.

" _Good,"_ Damien nodded curtly. " _All right..._ " he looked around the wasteland a bit, tonguing over his fangs. He glanced towards the prison cave and grinned. _"Get to the top of the cave,"_ he ordered.

Kenny's heart dropped as Kyle's eyes glazed over once more and he took off in a sprint towards the rock. "Holy shit," he breathed, watching as his eyes glowed that dangerous red, hand directing onto the ground. A burst of power propelled him a good thirty feet into the air, holding his other hand out and smacking it against the stone. His claws dug in through the material and another shock wave sent him further up, his lodes following in taut lines tearing down through him. He landed down atop the cave in a crouch, getting to his feet and his eyes glossing back to normal again. He groaned, leaning his head back and panting before looking back down and freezing.

" _How the fuck..._ " he whimpered.

His sharp hearing perked at an oily _"good boy"_ piercing the air. He gulped, shutting his eyes and biting his lip carefully, just wanting this nightmare to be fucking over.

Kenny's chest tightened as he saw the conflict playing on Kyle's face. "Ky..." he whispered. He froze in panic as Kyle was suddenly ripped backwards, screaming as his veins receded, slamming him into the ground and dragging him back to Damien's feet. He choked out a couple sobs, glancing up at that devious grin and letting his head fall back onto the ground, his jaw trembling as his entire body throbbed in pain. Damien knelt down beside him, tugging his listless body upright with his back facing him.

" _ **Such**_ _a good boy,"_ Damien cooed, taking his free hand and petting through the man's hair. Kenny growled savagely and Kyle sneered as best as he could manage, his vision fading in and out from the sudden assault. The man dropped his head a bit defeatedly, panting as he tried to assemble his thoughts once more.

Kenny narrowed his eyes, watching Damien carefully. He slowly leaned up as Damien moved closer towards Kyle's back. "What is he doing?" he asked blankly, unable to so much as blink as he watched the approach.

Kyle's eyes opened as he felt Damien's breath against his neck. He twisted his head slightly, seeing a gleam in the demon's eyes that sent him into a spiraling nausea. _"How does it feel, Little mouse?"_ he asked, breath bouncing hotly off his exposed skin.

" _W-what?"_ he asked shakily, his rebellion halted by the uncomfortable closeness.

Damien smirked, taking his hand from Kyle's curls and cupping his chin, tilting his head back towards himself and staring voraciously at the alabaster skin. _"Being part of me, of course_ ," he said casually, letting his claws drop a bit and scrape over his adam's apple. He leaned up against his ear, both Kenny and Kyle stiffening at the action as a husky voice breeched in a low chuckle, _"Knowing your body belongs to me?"_

Realization flashed through both sets of eyes, an unruly panic picking up between the both of them. "Oh my **god**!" Kenny screeched, hopping off the table and raking his fingers through his hair as the others stared at the show in silent shock.

Kyle's breath became shallow husks, pupils an absolute pinpoint as his body remained frozen under Damien's whim. _"Do you know what's so fantastic about victory, Little mouse?"_ The demon continued, looking at the crook of Kyle's neck, his popping collarbone cresting beneath and he shivered. _"There's so many ways to enjoy it,"_ he purred. _"The smell, the feeling...the_ _ **taste**_ _,"_ he hissed, launching down and sinking his fangs into Kyle's neck. The man howled, unable to fight out of the grip as his sharp canines sunk into the flesh, tearing through muscle.

"SEND ME DOWN NOW!" Kenny screamed, grabbing Resurrection's hilt and snapping his head to God. "SEND ME DOWN!"

"You'll _die_ , Kenneth," Michael hissed.

"NO, DAMIEN IS GOING TO FUCKING DIE!" he screamed, his anger quickly spiraling out of his control. "SEND ME DOWN NOW!" he repeated to God.

The deity looked at him and shook His head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, but we can't risk you like that."

Kenny's face dropped, Gabriel and Raphael grabbing either arm and holding him steady through his shaking. He whirled his head back to Kyle, who was sobbing as Damien continued to push him down with his teeth; continued to _mark him_.

" _NO!"_ Kyle screamed, eyes shooting open and coming alive. He let out a long, pained screech as they increased in brightness, shooting his head to Damien and letting a large burst push the demon back, his veins snapping from his hold. Damien grinned, fangs stained with the man's blood as Kyle quickly scrambled away in a pained crawl, turning onto his back and watching the demon in terror. Damien took a step closer and he snarled, _"YOU STAY AWAY FROM ME!"_ His eyes began burning as his body seemed to move on its own. His arm moved back, snapping forward and Damien watched a large stone in the distance picking up off the ground and hurtling towards him at breakneck speed. He deflected it easily, continuing to casually saunter over to the redhead.

Kyle kept himself going throwing rocks, trying to keep himself moving back as he did so. _"Come now, Little one,"_ Damien grinned slyly, watching as Kyle slowly wore himself out, ignoring his gushing wounds in favor of his fear. The both of them jumped as Valefor bounded between them, barking sharply at the noirette. Damien raised his brow, _"Didn't know a bitch could train another bitch."_

" _Stay away,"_ Kyle repeated with a gulp, shakily sitting himself up and watching his opponent cautiously.

Damien smirked, _"You don't get to choose what I do, Little mouse,"_ he said plainly. He glared at Valefor still barking, rolling his eyes. _"Little pet needs to learn not to bite the hand of his master, doesn't he?"_ He paused and looked up at the redhead, chuckling. _"Both of them."_

" _I'm NOT yours!"_ Kyle screamed, eyes bursting once more. He slammed his hand onto the ground, Valefor stumbling as a ripple of earth crested along beneath him. Damien watched with a quirked brow as it came towards him, easily hopping out of its way and watching it descend back into the dirt.

He looked at the redhead and grinned, _"_ _ **Strong**_ _little mouse,"_ he cooed. He began walking towards the both of them again. _"Too bad you don't know how to unleash_ _ **all**_ _of it,"_ he spat hungrily. _"Guess I'll have to help it along, won't I?"_

"Send me down, **please**!" Kenny begged, trying to rip from Raphael and Gabriel's hold. This was bad. This was _so_ bad. He couldn't stand to watch this, to see Damien _win_ like this _._

Valefor backed up in front of Kyle, fur standing on end and growling fiercely. Damien smirked, simply pointing at the dog and flinging him to the side. He landed in a slide with a loud yelp, shaking himself and seeming disoriented. Kyle tried to make way for him, stopped as Damien's foot slammed down in front of him. He gulped, looking up at his attacker with wide eyes. Damien reached down, grasping him around the throat and yanking him up towards his face, staring at the interesting array of emotions fluctuating on his pale profile. Kyle choked a bit, frozen in an overwhelming panic as Damien gently brushed his bangs out of his eyes. _"Don't,"_ he whimpered.

Damien grinned maliciously, his toes practically curling at the gentle, pleading tone. _"I like it when you beg_ ," he purred, yanking Kyle even closer, their noses nearly bashing against one another's.

Kenny was practically in hysterics, thrusting around madly in the angels' hands while the rest of the room couldn't help but merely stare at the disaster taking place before their very eyes. The Concorde was going up in flames and there was nothing to be done about it but watch it happen and wait for the inevitable fall.

The red eyed men stared at each other before Damien snapped up, looking off to the side and growling, various demons calling within his occupied mind. _"Fuck_ ," he spat, throwing Kyle back on the ground in a crumpled heap. The demon looked down at him with a wicked smile, _"My services are required elsewhere,"_ he said nonchalantly. Kyle watched him in silence, jaw still trembling. _"Perhaps you should practice training, if you actually want to make a difference of your chances,"_ he smirked, sinking through the ground without another word.

"Oh thank god," Kenny let out a long, raspy breath of relief, clutching at his chest as Raphael and Gabriel relinquished his arms. He looked up to see Kyle shakily moving himself onto his knees.

" _Valefor?"_ he called out weakly. The dog clumsily made its way over to him, shaking its head irritably. He stopped in front of the redhead and Kyle cupped under his muzzle. " _Good boy,"_ he whispered, placing his forehead against the dog's. _"Good_ _ **good**_ _boy."_ He brushed dirt and rock off of his fur, getting a gentle lick on his nose. Kyle let out a few hiccups of cries, wiping his eyes furiously. The angels watched curiously as his wounds began stitching themselves back together with Kyle able to focus. The redhead reached forward, clasping around Valefor's neck and digging his face into his fur. He couldn't have Kenny, the dog was just going to have to do for now.

Kenny took a deep, shaking breath. "Is there any way I can save him?" he asked point-blank, watching the redhead as Valefor placed his head atop his curls, letting him cry it out into his neck.

"No," God said honestly. "Not until he's up here. Not until he's not on Damien's turf."

He gulped, looking down and nodding. "I'm sorry about Nathaneal," he said flatly, emotions unable to sort themselves out in the mess. He stopped Gabriel trying to comfort him. "I never _ever_ would've asked him to talk to Kyle if I thought that would happen. I'm _so_ sorry." He looked up at Uriel briefly who was still staring at the vision with wide, grey eyes. He stole another glance at his sobbing fiancé, feeling a familiar warmth rushing through his veins and quickly turning on his heel, walking away from the group.

"Ken?" Raphael called. They watched him storming off in silence, slamming the door behind him once again. He shook his head, "This just keeps getting worse," he commented softly.

"I have a feeling that it's not going to get any better," God murmured, sighing heavily.

They all flinched as a bright light seared through the large window, blinding the lot of them. They glanced at each other before rushing over to see Kenny taking his anger out on a patch of clouds, screaming as he slammed Resurrection down time and again with tears streaming out of his mirrored eyes. They all winced at the feeling of palpable helplessness seeming to thicken the air. Michael took a deep breath and shook his head, glancing back at the redhead trying to collect himself and Kenny losing every bit of control. "No," he agreed. "But...perhaps the worse it gets, the better chances they have."


	30. Foundation Atop Sand

**But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. -** _**Corinthians 9:27** _

Tossing and turning on Valefor's side, Kyle slept uneasily, ears perked for the slightest hint of a noise outside of the dog's soft snoring. He groaned, curling into himself as he finally gave up on trying to fall into REM, creaking his bloodshot eyes open. This was just too much stress. He stared blankly out his broken door and took a deep, shuddery breath. The whole situation was already spiraling out of his control. Tacking on Damien's now-known _intentions_ was just damn well near the straw that could break his back. He nuzzled into Valefor's fur, knowing full and well that he could sleep and the Hellhound would wake him up should anything seem awry, but that didn't stop his panicked mind from racing. How the hell was he going to do this? How was he going to fight off the fucking anti-christ when every attempt before fell flat?

He groaned softly and Valefor lifted his head, shaking out of his drowsiness and letting his short ears flap against his head listlessly. "Sorry," Kyle murmured, letting a hand raise and gently petting his back.

He slowly sat himself up, rubbing his eyes and sighing. He let his hand drift to the spot where Damien had bit him. The mark was gone, but the feeling lingered. He felt nauseated, the burning intensity of the demon's hold still prickling against his delicate flesh. He couldn't help a low-seated growl, a spark of anger flashing through him as his mind aimlessly wandered to how that was one of _Kenny's_ favorite spots to mark him. Damien didn't have that fucking right but he just _took it_.

He glanced down as Valefor shifted himself around, lying his massive head down on Kyle's legs. The redhead sighed, resuming petting him. Damien had said it himself: He had to train. He had to figure out these powers or there was no _way_ he could get himself out of dodge. He bristled, swallowing a lump down his throat. He didn't want to do this. He didn't _want_ to get a hold of these powers, he just wanted to be himself. He wanted to be the scrawny nerd who still had Kenny kill spiders for him. Being a vessel of the anti-christ was certainly not something he aspired to be, but he knew the damn deed just had to be fucking done.

He patted Valefor's head. "Wanna help?" he asked tiredly. The dog raised his head and wagged his tail a bit, encouraging a small smile to play on the frightened man's lips. "Good, let's go," he said, pushing him up and getting to his feet. He waited for Valefor to follow suit and shake himself before heading towards the doorway, glancing around cautiously for Damien. He blinked as his sense slammed back into him, closing his eyes and focusing on it. Damien felt far _far_ away. He let out a breath of relief, heading out with Valefor at his side. Kyle led them both back towards the pond, stopping in the barren field and shuddering as his eyes glanced over the space where Damien had him by the throat.

He shook himself out of it and cleared his throat. "Okay," he said aloud, the dog sitting by his feet. Kyle glanced around a bit, spotting a small rock a few yards away and tonguing over his lips. He narrowed his ruby eyes in concentration, holding out his hand towards it. He growled, trying to remember just what he'd done when Damien was coming for him the day before. All he could remember was sheer panic, a horrid feeling of dread that he didn't think anything could top. He rolled his eyes at himself. He needed to fucking _focus_. Healing himself took selfishness, and Damien told him that his powers were based in that and in protecting himself. So it had to lie _somewhere_ in there.

"He's not touching me," he growled under his breath, feeling a chill running through his torrid veins. "I won't let him," he swore, eyes beaming. He watched as the rock slowly began lifting into the air, smiling in victory. He kept his anger rushing through, genially working the stone back towards himself. His entire being felt keen, drawn to the object. It was almost incredible in a way, finding himself easing down into a nearly zen state as he continued hauling it over. The anger and fear felt redirected into his hand, every ounce of himself being stretched out by the influx of emotion coursing through him and pushing out of his clawed fingertips.

He grunted as the rock came in front of them, falling onto the ground as he dropped his hand. He tongued over his fangs and nodded. "Okay, I think I got it," he commented. He looked to Valefor and smirked. "Wanna play fetch?" he asked. The dog cocked his head, watching as Kyle slowly worked the stone up once more. "Don't catch it in your teeth," he advised. "I dunno how strong they are but I can't afford vet bills." He reared his arm back and snapped it forward, the rock whizzing off into the distance. Valefor sprinted away from him, chasing it like his life depended on it. Kyle watched with a small smile before looking at his hand, flexing his fingers.

This seemed all-too surreal. Barely four months ago he and Kenny were having an argument over what constituted as a manly number when it came to fucking throw pillows. Now he was standing in Hell wielding an enormous power with a goddamn Hellhound as his 'little' buddy. He looked up at the sky and took a long breath. "I hope you're doing better than I am, Ken," he said quietly, thumb bending to stroke the silver situated on his finger. He looked down as a soft clatter hit the ground, finding Valefor panting and sitting, waiting for him to throw the rock again.

He smirked a bit, petting his head. "Good boy," he cooed. He slammed his feelings down, immediately finding his not-so-happy place and grabbing hold of his target once again. He sent it flying off once more, increasing the distance a bit and letting Valefor take off after it. He crossed his arms, letting himself sink into thought. His blood felt cooled, almost as though he were back to normal.

It was worrying.

What did it mean in particular? Just that he was getting a hold of his powers? Or that Damien's blood was taking him over more than he expected? What if it _changed_ him? He bit his lip a bit, eyes scanning over the ground beneath him in distress. What was Damien's endgame for him? If he _did_ succeed and manage to take Heaven down, what then? He shuddered, bile spiking in his throat as his imagination betrayed him, seeing himself as nothing more than Damien's toy for the rest of eternity. Tormenting him every day about losing Kenny, using him however he saw fit. Kyle's entire body twitched at the notion, knowing well enough that if it came to that, he'd be too brokenhearted to do anything but just accept what fate handed to him. He groaned, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head. This was just too much. Damien added way too much more to be perturbed about to the damn table.

A gentle press against his leg broke his attention, looking through his fingers to see Valefor waiting patiently. He sighed, kneeling down in front of him and staring into his eyes. "What do _you_ think I should do?" he asked, scratching behind Valefor's ear lightly. "You think I should take my chances and hope Ken gets me out...or...figure it out myself?" he winced. Valefor licked his nose and he groaned, wiping the saliva off and twisting his lips a bit, nodding. "Yeah. I never fully relied on him before, why start now...right?" he shrugged. "I'm on my own until this stupid war finally happens regardless," he reminded himself. He smirked a bit, "Well, aside from you apparently, you dumb mutt," he teased. Kyle chuckled at his blank expression, "Ya know, Ken once said he wanted to get me a guard dog," he commented offhandedly. "Almost get mugged _once_ and all of a sudden you're a delicate little flower who needs protected. I'm just sayin', I broke the dude's finger so I think his worries were a little farfetched, right?" he rolled his eyes amusedly before the expression slowly melted off his face. "Guess he had a point, though, huh?" he muttered. "I sure as hell haven't done very well protecting myself so far..." he glanced to his infected arm and scrunched his nose at it, letting out a long breath.

He got back to his feet and glared off in the direction he could feel Damien in. "Ken can't protect me," he said steadily, "So I'm gonna have to. I can't keep hoping he'll fly down and get me out, right?" he looked back at the dog who wagged his tail, glancing between him and the rock. "Subtle," he snorted, focusing and picking it up once more. He paused, looking down at the dog and licking his lips. "Actually," he said, letting the rock drop much to Valefor's dismay. "Let me do this, and we'll keep playing, okay?" he raised his brows at him. He stepped back a bit. "Stay," he drawled a bit, holding out his hand and honing in on the him.

Valefor whimpered as he slowly started lifting off the ground into the air. "Shhh, I gotcha," he assured him gently, keeping his emotion focused as the dog lifted higher and higher. He nodded to himself. Okay, so picking up larger things wasn't _much_ of a difference. Just a little more concentration than with the rock, but considering how much larger Valefor was than a tiny stone, it was incredible how miniscule the discrepancy was.

He flinched as he felt Damien's presence moving closer, snapping his head in the direction. His heart fell into a furious panicked flurry and he looked back, seeing his hold dropped on Valefor. His jaw dropped and he ran over underneath the flailing canine. He held his arms out and let out a loud 'oof' as he crashed into his arms. "Sorry, Dude," he winced. "Apparently I can't get distra-" he paused, raising his brow. He looked from the dog to his steady legs and arms underneath his stomach and blinked. "Dude. Are you just super light and your looks are deceiving or what?"

Valefor whined, his paws swimming in midair a bit. Kyle gently lowered him to the ground, scratching his hair in bewilderment. "That should've broken my fucking _spine_ ," he insisted. "Or at least you should've like, crushed me," he crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Guess Damien's blood affected my muscle, too," he murmured. "I just never noticed since he's the only one I fight," he rolled his eyes, looking back at the dog who was looking almost worried. He held up his hands and kneeled down in front of him. "I won't do that again," he promised, petting his head gently. "You know, for a _Hellhound_ , you're a bit of a pussy," he remarked. Valefor huffed in his face and he snorted, wiping the residue off his cheeks. "All right," he lifted the rock back up, watching the dog's head follow it excitedly. "At least you're easy to get to forgive me," he smirked, tossing it off to the side again and letting him bound after it.

Kyle turned his head back towards Damien's direction, letting out a small sigh of relief as he felt him staying in place. So staying focused was absolutely key. Good to know that these powers didn't involve letting him multitask. Not a great notion considering how much he knew he was going to be dealing with in the long run, but knowing ahead of time would definitely serve its purpose. He bit his tongue very lightly, watching Valefor running back towards him, his paws kicking ash into the air.

Kyle was going to have to take this entire situation in the only way that he knew how to operate: Pick it apart piece by piece, figure out his motive, and take down his adversary. He smirked as Valefor dropped the stone at his feet again. Luckily for him, if Damien stayed his distance, he'd have plenty of time to work it all out.

* * *

Damien sat back against a rock, crossing his legs and swinging his foot casually. He watched as demons scurried about, searching their separate lots of mortals for victims. He looked over as a shuffling sound was heard, smirking up at Gragor bowing respectfully. "Will you knock it off?" he raised his brow. "Ya don't need to bow every damn time, Gragor...Unless you're here with bad news," he dropped his voice suspiciously.

"For once, no, My lord," he chuckled, taking a seat next to him. "I did hear there were some issues, though?"

He rolled his eyes and nodded, "Yes, the demons were having doubts with narrowing down more mortals to take for war. Apparently they thought they needed my damn approval. I told them 'pick the ones that look like they can lift more than ten pounds'," he scoffed. "Demons just can't do anything by themselves, can they?"

"This war is very important, Master Damien," he commented. "They only want to make sure that you have the top squadron that you expect."

"I suppose," he sighed dramatically.

Gragor cleared his throat, leaning back and looking at him curiously. "Speaking of mortals, how goes that nuisance?"

Damien smirked, waving his hand listlessly and letting his seeing portal pop up in front of them. "Look at him," he grinned widely, watching as Kyle picked up a small group of stones, throwing them all and letting the dog chase after them. "He's figuring it out so _quickly_ ," he hissed in excitement, eyes beaming.

"He's...throwing rocks," he raised his brow.

The demon scoffed, "More than _you_ can do, Gragor." Gragor pouted but shrugged, nodding softly in agreement. Damien looked back at the redhead and shook his head in a level of disbelief. "The little mouse is learning how to maneuver the maze," he chuckled, crossing his arms and continuing to bounce his foot. "The more hold he gets, the more I can make him do."

"And the more trouble you'll have holding onto him," Gragor raised his brow.

He smirked slyly, "I've been going fairly easy on him so far, Gragor. Do not underestimate my abilities to get what I want."

He shook his paws in front of him, "I never said that, Master Damien. I just know you showed concern when he broke from you the first time."

"I was barely using any strength. I was just surprised he got out of it so easily so soon after gaining power," he shrugged. "I'm very slowly increasing how much I use on him over time and he's adapting so _well_ ," he chuckled. A dark, hungry gleam flashed over his eyes. "But soon, I'll use too much for him to handle. I'll break the little fucker yet."

Gragor blinked, "How?"

He smirked and shrugged nonchalantly, "Make him realize that he's not only McCormick's bitch, but mine as well...In more ways than one" he licked over his fangs. "I just need him to hit a certain point, where his power evens out."

"Evens out?" he repeated confusedly.

He nodded, "He'll hit a point where it won't hurt him anymore. Not as much, at least. At the rate he's going, it won't take long," he commented. He watched the man through the portal scratching his hair, the lush curls twisting around his fingers and he nearly shuddered. "I brought him to the point where he's finally scared of me," he murmured. "He knows what I want and he's going to fight to prevent it from happening. Too bad the more he fights, the harder I take him down, and the harder it'll be for him to resist letting the power consume him."

Gragor looked from him to the redhead scratching Valefor's ear. "I just can't see him being too much of an asset, My lord."

"You have a problem with severely underestimating the possibilities then, my friend," he snorted.

Gragor's serpent tongue slivered out thoughtfully. "What if it doesn't consume him?" he asked softly.

"Huh?" he cocked his brow.

"The power," he elaborated, glancing at his better worriedly, knowing that despite his good standing, he could be walking a very fine line here. "What if it doesn't take him over as you wish?"

He smirked, "You worry too much. Don't forget, he may be a demon, but he's also part mortal. Mortals fracture so easily. And judging by how terrified he was of me yesterday with my plans, he'll be pure putty once I get to him. I'll take the little bitch down just to rise him up again beside me." He grinned smugly, "He won't want to do _anything_ but be under my hand if all goes as planned."

"And if it doesn't?" he insisted.

Damien glanced at him and shrugged, turning back to the redhead once more with lax eyes. "Then I make it so McCormick has no _choice_ but to kill him."


	31. Strength and Refuge

" **An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up." -** _ **Proverbs 12:25**_

His fingers clutched tightly around the silver hilt, knuckles blaring a ghastly white. Barachiel stood across the way, brown eyes slicing over the blonde's tensed form. "Kenneth, are you sure?" he raised his brow in concern.

"Fucking _do it_ ," he hissed, bending his knees a bit, shoes shuffling along the clouds. His eyes flickered into the sky for a brief moment before landing back on Invocation's gleaming blade. Barachiel's hands tightened around the yellow gems coating the handle, nodding slowly to himself. He tongued over his lips, raising his weapon, brown irises flashing with light as he brought it down in a swift motion, a burst of lightening spearing out towards the rigid man.

Kenny growled, raising Resurrection against the assault, screaming as it bent around the blade and slammed into him, sending him flying back onto the ground. He groaned, rolling onto his knees and panting. He wasn't used to being hit by such a force without actually fucking _dying_. He shakily forced himself back up onto his feet, using his sword as leverage. "Kenneth," the angel called, "I don't think-"

He paused as Kenny's wings snapped him forward, the blonde sneering as he sped towards him with his eyes glossing over. Barachiel blinked out of his stupor, raising Invocation and meeting Kenny's thrust, their blades clanging against each other in an angry song; a chorus of promised despair ringing throughout the arena. Resurrection began to glow, a spark sending Barachiel stumbling back. As Kenny thrust his sword forward, the angel parried it off, his own eyes meeting the same level of menacing light. They met once more, a large burst of yellow and white slamming around the area, beaming up into the sky above them like fireworks spreading along the clouds.

Kenny fell back a few feet, entire body quaking with the after-effects of the attack. His arms were trembling with exertion, his knuckles cramping. But he just couldn't _stop_. He let out a subdued screech from clenched teeth, leaping forward and swinging down with all his might. Barachiel held his hand up, another flare snaking between them and sending the blonde soaring backwards across the ring. Kenny sneered, turning himself with a push of his wings and holding his own hand down, eyes glimmering as his light shakily propelled him back towards the angel, much to his opponent's shock. Barachiel couldn't recover in time, his stomach meeting with Kenny's foot before Resurrection swung down into his arm, sending him toppling over. He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide at Kenny hovering over him panting angrily and stumbling on his feet, blade pointed at his face.

"Kenneth," he said breathlessly. "That was-"

"Again," he demanded, kicking his leg a bit.

He raised a thick black brow, working his way onto his feet as Kenny kept his sword directed at him. He noted the blonde's tremoring, how painfully white his fingers had become. "Calm down first," he narrowed his eyes.

"I don't have fucking _time_ to calm down!" he snapped. Barachiel looked between him and Resurrection, holding up his hands and dropping Invocation onto the clouds below them. Kenny blinked, "Hey! We're supposed to be sparring!"

"Remember that I'm not Damien," he said lowly, putting a hand on Kenny's glowing blade and slowly pushing it away from his face. "Kenneth, this can't be how you fight."

He stared at him in disbelief, letting out a scoff. "Really? Fucking _really_?" he demanded, shoving Resurrection back into its sheath and glaring at the man, eyes still translucent. Barachiel shuddered. These weren't Kenny's eyes. They were the eyes of a man lost; A man looking for blood. "You fuckers need to make up your goddamn mind!" he yelled. "What do you want from me?!" he gestured to himself, face dropping helplessly. "I'm not fucking goofing off, I'm taking this seriously! Isn't that what you've all been fucking _demanding_ I do?!" The elder stared at him, blinking slowly at his outraged cries. "Now you're telling me to lighten up?!"

He nodded slowly, walking up and cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder. "Kenneth, come on, breathe," he directed, raising and lowering his hand to guide him through it, unnerved by the pure hate hiding behind such a typically-playful expression.

Kenny's lip trembled, looking up at the angel hopelessly. "What am I doing wrong?" he asked, angry tone cracking with a soft whimper.

"You're not being yourself, that's what's wrong," he said gently. "Your power needs you to remain light, not so...bogged down," he winced.

He scoffed, pushing the angel's hand off him and backing away from him a bit, scanning him up and down. "What do you think I should do, Bar, hm?" he demanded. "Just...pretend that Kyle isn't down there being hunted like he's a fucking game hen or some shit? Act like everything's all hunky-dory?"

"No, I'm not saying-"

"Because," he interrupted with a sharp glare, "All I've been hearing since I got here was 'focus on the people, on the world, on lives, on Damien, on _Kyle_ '," he trembled, wiping his eyes with his wrist quickly, trying to hide the tears beading his lashes. "Well now I _am_! And you want me to ignore it!"

"I don't want you to ignore it!" he yelled back, sending the blonde jerking backwards a bit away from him in surprise, those deep brown eyes seeming to pierce straight into his soul. "Dammit, Kenneth, stop this!" he barked. "You're acting like a helpless child!"

"I'm _acting_ like someone who wants to save their fiancé from being the anti-christ's fucking plaything!" he screamed, pointing at the ground with a trembling arm.

He huffed, "Well acting like this won't get anyone _anywhere_."

"Seemed to take you down just fine," he said snidely.

He rolled his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a way that made Kenny think of Stan right off the bat. He shuddered a bit to himself, wondering what Stan would say if he saw what Kenny let happen to his super best friend. Hell, he _knew_. Stan would strangle him to death and somehow follow Kyle down into Hell and make him a damn cup of coffee to calm him from his trauma and Kenny's 'stupidity' as he'd done through so many of their fights. He bit his lip, remembering Damien mentioning Stan calling the police when he'd brought Kyle up to Heaven. Ken gulped, wondering how Stan was dealing with trying to find both of them, if they'd declared both of them officially dead for good yet. Wendy was probably overrun between worry and trying to keep Stan from losing his mind and drinking himself to death. He gulped at the possibilities this spawned that he hadn't even began to conceive of being so lost in the whirlwind of his and Kyle's own suffering.

Stan no doubt would've called both their parents. His own parents would probably be in a constant drunken stupor. Karen would be beside herself with worry and probably crying her eyes out. Kevin would be shaking random people down for information. He shuddered as the Broflovskis flashed through his mind. He knew _exactly_ how that was going; Sheila would be on a rampage, probably screaming that Kyle was taken by drug lords that Kenny 'got involved with' like she accused when they ran off for a weekend in Denver together when they were eighteen and had just started screwing around. Gerald would be interrogating petty criminals he was _supposed_ to be defending trying to find out if any of them had seen his son. And Ike would be just completely lost without having his big brother to call when things got too rough, trying to find comfort in a bottle of Smirnoff like Kyle before him.

He rubbed his temple, his head absolutely throbbing between anger and fear and just an overwhelming feeling of failure. This was messing up _everyone's_ lives. And it was _his_ fault.

"I should've taken the deal," he muttered.

Barachiel looked up at him and cocked his brow. "What deal?"

"For Kyle," he kept his gaze locked on the ground, eyes burning with unshed tears. "I should've...figured something out to save him."

"You had no options," he said, dropping his voice sympathetically. "Kyle would've gotten hurt either way," he reminded him.

"Not like this," he whispered, thumb finding his engagement ring and fiddling with the silver. He raised his hand and stared at it reflecting the light back into his sight. "Damien knows what he's doing...and I _don't_ ," he snapped. "He stringing the entire fucking verse and I'm stuck trying to figure out where the hell to put my fingers!" he shouted, finally looking up at Barachiel's face. "I keep going back and forth and...I can't keep up," he admitted, running his hands through his hair.

The noirette took a deep breath, "Then stop going back and forth," he said simply.

He rolled his icy eyes, "It's not so easy."

"Yes, it is," he insisted. "Kenneth, your powers derive from who you are," he said softly. "You're not the vengeful type."

He swallowed a lump, knowing that the angel was right, "I should be here, though."

Barachiel shook his head, "No. You shouldn't. This isn't a mission to _avenge_ Kyle. It's a mission to _save_ him."

"They're the same fucking-"

"No," he cut off discernibly. "Don't fight for what _has_ happened. Fight against what _could_ happen."

He narrowed his eyes confusedly, "Whaddya mean?"

He ran his fingers through his short, thin hair, taking a deep breath. "What is your greatest fear?" he asked.

"Kyle dying," he said softly, tears welling at the mere _notion._

"There it is," he gestured to him. "You know that Damien can't kill him, but the idea terrifies you, it makes you move towards your goal." Kenny raised his brow and he continued, "Your powers are about movement," he pointed out. "You and I share that. The both of us have to keep ourselves moving towards our goal or we stumble and fall."

"What does _that_ have to do with fear?"

He took another breath, moving over beside him and pressing down on his shoulder, watching him fall to the ground on the side of his legs before following suit. "Because you're not afraid, and you're not protective. You're _angry_ ," he emphasized. "Anger keeps one grounded. It keeps them seated in their rage. What are your two methods of choice when you're afraid?" he raised his brow expectantly.

Kenny blinked, "Fight or flight?"

Barachiel nodded. "Fear makes you move; Keeps you pushing yourself whether it be towards or away from your target. Your body becomes naturally flowing once you pick a response. In anger, you tense, you defend. In fear, you take the offensive."

The man nodded slowly, looking back at the ground and wiping at his eyes again. "But Raphael said my powers are from being protective, not afraid."

"You have to learn to combine them," he shrugged. "You can't only feel one thing. Every emotion derives from another."

"Huh?" he blinked.

He twisted his lips thoughtfully, "Well, you love Kyle, correct?"

"Gee, it's not obvious?" he rolled his eyes, a small, sad smirk finally creeping onto the corners of his lips.

Barachiel nearly sighed in relief at the sight before continuing. "Love can spawn happiness. Or right now, your love brings out sorrow because of your situation. The inordinate fear you have for Damien's plans for him can bring out your full protective potential if you learn to harness it in the right way. Going about it the way you are now will only slow you down."

Kenny took a deep breath, tonguing over his lips, "I can't help it," he admitted quietly. "I'm so _furious_ at Damien...and me," his shoulders dropped defeatedly. "Why couldn't I fucking get him out?"

"Because you know what's important," he said softly. "And Kyle never would have forgiven you if you gave up this battle for him. You know that more than anyone."

He shut his eyes, seeing Kyle's determined face, that damn unwavering stubbornness as he directed Kenny to ignore Damien, ignore _him_ , to do what was _right_. He hated that, how Kyle always knew the answer, even when it was something that neither of them wanted. "I wonder if he would've changed his mind knowing what he knows now," he murmured, placing his chin in his palm and staring off distantly at the far side of the ring. "He's never been so pushed against the wall...God, he looked so scared," he whispered helplessly.

He gulped and nodded in agreement, shuddering at the memory of those horrified red eyes, that wavering scream of terror. "He's afraid and wants to protect himself," he stated. "You need to be the same."

Kenny glanced over and bit his lip. "What if Damien does... _that_ to him?" he asked meekly.

Barachiel shifted uncomfortably, "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Let me ask, are you more afraid of _that_ , or of Kyle's death?"

He paused, chest tightening and mind battling itself over his options. Both were terrible, both were things that he _never_ wanted to imagine. One had him completely gone physically, but he didn't _know_ what the former could do _mentally_. Kyle never took losing with ease, he knew that much. And Damien taking him over more than he already had could damn near destroy the redhead. At least, Kenny _thought_ so. Kyle had a habit of bouncing back from horrible situations in no time, but this was one that was far outside the realm of anything either of them thought they'd have to deal with. Everything was so damn up in the air Kenny just didn't know what side of Kyle to go with. "I don't know," he finally said in exhaustion. "I'd rather both happen to _me_ and he just be at home."

"But that's not where we are," Barachiel reminded him gently. "Hoping for the impossible right now will get you nowhere. You need to focus on what potential prospects are feasible at this point. That is the _only_ thing that can get you through this."

He nodded, knowing that he was right, but damn it all if he couldn't help but wish he could see Kyle lounging on their couch in boredom just waiting for him. He sighed defeatedly, "I hate this so much. I _hate_ being so fucking important to something I don't care about."

"But you _do_ care," he insisted softly. "Otherwise you and I would not be having this conversation. You would be moping around throwing a tantrum and refusing to even try. You know that you care about the world even _outside_ of those you hold dear. That's why you've been blessed," he touched his arm genially. "God never would have given such trust to one who didn't harbor such compassion."

Kenny's cheeks tinged with color, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, caring _sucks_ ," he pouted.

He chuckled lightly, "Yeah. Yeah it does. Caring takes a lot of energy. And the more one cares, the more energy they exert. That's why you're so powerful, Kenneth."

"That's gay," he rolled his eyes.

He raised his brow teasingly, "You're one to talk. Kyle is a _man_ isn't he?"

"Ay, that's our word, you shut up," he smirked sadly, slapping him lightly with the back of his hand. He looked at him and sighed. "So...your powers are from fear?"

He nodded, "Yes. My job is to handle the fears of mankind, to calm people in their darkest hours. My fear invokes a need to keep myself going through my own darkest times. You need to do the same, just to keep _others_ going."

Kenny nodded slowly at his words, tonguing over his lips. "I'll try," he promised quietly.

"That's all we ask," he smiled, getting to his feet, reaching down and helping the man up as well. "You have a good idea of how to make your powers work, now we just need to get you to a point where you utilize them to the best of their abilities."

The blonde sighed, "Okay..." he paused. "Bar...can... _can_ Ky die?" he asked.

He took a deep breath and shrugged, "I honestly don't know. That's something that you need to talk to God about. But for now...let's just say for the sake of argument that he can, and you focus on that, all right?"

Kenny nodded, staring down at the clouds for a moment as he withdrew Resurrection once more, hoping against hope that Kyle was standing all that way right below him, looking back at him. He let out a long, sad sigh and murmured, "I just hope he's doing better than I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _are you happy, kris? someone finally called him out on the gayness_


	32. Denied Faith

**Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." -** _**Romans 12:19** _

Figuring out Damien's pattern hadn't been overly difficult. He tended to stay on the far East side of Hell, well out of Kyle's scope of what he considered to be 'dangerously' close. That was more than fine with the redhead. The less he had to panic about Damien the better. Keeping his mind open for the possibility of the consequences, Kyle found himself restless; His body aching to move outside of what he'd claimed to be his bubble and figure out just what it was he'd been thrown into the middle of. After all, he'd staunchly reminded himself upon his first outing, one must _know_ their enemy if one wishes to strike them down, right?

The first few days were nothing incredibly daring, only making it out perhaps half a mile from his prison before getting cold feet and turning back, making sure to keep Valefor right at his side. Something about being in the open void of Hell was just beyond unnerving, feeling like that crimson sky could swallow and devour him whole when he least expected it. However, something inside him just _insisted_ that he keep pushing on, keep searching for _something_ that he didn't even know how to start seeking. Like a little ringing bell in the back of his mind the need manifested, latched onto his subconscious like a needy child. Kyle had always been the curious type, there was no denying it. But something here was just shoving him clear off the ledge he'd been peering over his entire stay down in the fire.

That wasn't to say his intrigue hadn't gained him some fascinating insight along the way.

He'd found an interesting little fact as he began venturing farther out into the grand arid landscape: Demons were _terrified_ of him. It was surreal, seeing them backing away from him in fear as he and Valefor casually walked along. He'd seen them eyeing him cautiously in the past, but now? No. They were full on petrified. He'd grown a bit braver upon his fifth day out, going so far as to make a beeline towards a monstrous creature. Standing with no doubt over 200 pounds on the man, speckled with the glitter of maroon and ebony and armed with protracted honeycomb claws, the demon's eyes had widened as the small redhead made his cautious approach. He had frozen in his place, obviously aching to step back from Kyle's path. The look on his face as Kyle had swerved out of the way about fifty feet away from him brought a snarky grin to the redhead's slender face.

Such _relief_ to not be approached by a man of a whopping 149 pounds. It had filled Kyle with a burst of confidence. Damien had made a _dire_ mistake. If he could terrify those demons with merely his presence, then he had much more reign than the anti-christ had probably accounted for. All this was going to take was a little ingenuity. The redhead couldn't help but bristle with excitement as he and Valefor had returned home and lied in his cave, staring at the ceiling in a brash hope. He could get his _own_ little army together. He could take Damien down from the inside. He could end this fucking war, somehow get himself to Heaven as Damien had demonstrated was within his realm of power, and tell Kenny. He could save _everyone_ if he could just figure out how to do it.

As he and Valefor made their way out yet again, Kyle aimlessly practiced his levitating ability on stray rocks and branches in their way, the dog bounding after each object excitedly.

Kyle led them towards the North end of Hell, raising his brow as a large, towering presence hovered in the distance. "The fuck is that?" he asked aloud, Valefor's ears perking at his voice. Kyle cocked his head, picking up his pace a bit and continuing to head towards the looming figure. He shoved his hands into his pockets, grimacing as a claw tore through a hole and he shook his head. Hell needed a goddamn J-mart.

His jaw dropped a bit as the two of them reached the apogee of a hill, red eyes gazing up and down an ornate blackened gate, numerous demons and mortals scattered about below the way. "Must be the entrance," he murmured softly, watching with a raised brow as the creatures below shouted at each other, unable to pick out complete sentences in the mess. He caught some movement in his good eye, flickering over to the side to see a tall, lithe demon trying to sneak past him. "Hey, you," he snapped, trying to keep his voice low and authoritative.

"Y-yes, My lord?" he asked, bowing his head a bit.

Kyle blinked, unable to help a small curl of his lips. Well, well, well. Apparently having part of Damien meant he inherited _all_ of what made the bastard what he was, good and bad. "What's going on down there?" he demanded, jerking his head casually towards the crowd.

The winged beast cleared his throat, "New arrivals, My lord."

"Ah," he nodded slowly. He figured as much. He made his way to step down towards them before a strong hand gripped his upper arm.

"Sir, what are you doing?" he hissed.

Kyle raised his brow. "Going down there?"

"You can't!" he insisted.

The redhead shook his hand off, staring up at the demon hovering probably four feet over him. "What's your name?"

"Timpetan, My lord," he bowed his head once more.

"Timpetan," he repeated. "All right, tell me, _Timpetan_ ," he crossed his arms and jutted his hip a bit, looking cockily at the monster. "Just why _can't_ I go down there?"

He blinked down at the small man as though he were stupid. He knew well enough who the redhead was, how Damien had turned a mortal with his own power. The rumors about the man had spread almost instantly when Gragor had told of the ritual. However, he hadn't _seen_ the redhead with his own eyes, almost believing that Gragor had told everyone just to get a rise of excitement spreading throughout the all-too-cumbersome days before them. But here he was, in the flesh, looking at him with a sharp gleam bursting through familiar-colored red eyes, a determination that he recognized lingering within. "Master Damien must have put more of himself into you than Gragor let on," he murmured.

Kyle's sharp hearing pricked and he narrowed his gaze, "Excuse me?"

"That look," he waved at him aimlessly. "I see a lot of Master Damien in it."

Kyle blinked, heart nearly skipping a beat in dread before scoffing the notion off. "What, you think that only because of that fucktard I get angry?" he demanded, stepping forward and shoving Timpetan's arm a bit. The demon backed up in fright and Kyle smiled self-righteously. "Lemme tell you something, Buddy. I don't need _him_ to get pissy. I was a goddamn expert _well_ before he stole me and drug me down here. So I suggest you answer my question before I decide to show you something that fucker _actually_ gave me, hm?" he raised his brow. He nearly snorted in victory at the demon's subtle but noticeable shudder.

"Because," he drawled slowly. "You're in the higher ranks."

"Which means I go where I please," he said snidely.

Timpetan frowned, "It means that you shouldn't go near the newcomers. They don't know what power you have, they only know you rank above the rest of us."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "They're mortal, like me, okay?" he pointed to himself, trying to ignore the fact that it was a claw pressing back against him. "They'll see that." He gulped, knowing the past had proven him wrong...but then again those were mortals that'd been here for awhile. They knew the standings. These ones were new, and he could get them on _his_ side. He could make himself a nice little distraction-army to rip off Damien's head if he played his cards correctly.

"They'll only see you as their main threat, My lord," Timpetan grasped his arm again, yellow eyes nearly narrowing in frustration at the man's stubbornness before remembering just whose blood it was rushing through him.

"I suggest you do the same," Kyle growled, tensing his captive arm. Timpetan released him hesitantly, watching as Kyle firmly turned himself and began heading down the hill with Valefor at his heels. The demon took a deep breath, knowing just where this was heading. He'd seen Damien deal with it once or twice before he finally decided the hassle wasn't worth it and avoided the newbies altogether until they'd learned his standing. He slowly followed after the presumptuous redhead as he stomped down the way.

Kyle caught a number of demons looking up to see him, looking back angrily and watching them shy down in glee. He turned his attention back to the mortals, seeing a good deal of them staring at him with wide eyes. He came to the foot of the hill standing in front of them and cleared his throat as the noise died off, his confidence wavering in the unnerving stoic air. "Uh...hi?" he winced, realizing all at once that his ideas far exceeded his actual knowledge of how to get his plan done.

Faces suddenly turned from shock to anger and Kyle's eyes widened, Valefor snarling at his side and eyes beginning to turn with their ghastly glow. The redhead suddenly had the impulse to smack himself, remembering all-too-vividly Kenny's rant to him on this very matter when he went headfirst against a group of guys calling the two of them fags and getting his ass handed to him. _"Dude, ya gotta know when to pick yer battles,"_ he'd lectured while icing his damn busted lip. _"Yer eyes are bigger than yer fists, Ky."_

Okay, so _maybe_ Kenny had a point now and again.

A few mortals took a step towards him and he stepped back cautiously. "Watch it," he tried to snap, it coming out more as a plead than he'd intended. Valefor started barking in warning at the approaching group and Kyle flickered his sight nervously. They looked beyond furious, like they'd watched him beat their mothers to death and bathed in their blood. "I'm one of you," he said, gesturing towards them, trying to calm the rallying hatred stacking against him like crazy.

He heard a number of angry, suspicious murmurs flittering through the crowd and took a deep breath. "I'm mortal, okay? Calm down."

A man up front scanned him up and down skeptically. "Looks like a demon t' me," he scoffed.

"I was kidnapped," he snapped. "They turned me into this," he gestured to himself desperately, knowing that he was doing nothing more than backing himself even further against the wall. "Please, I'm not like _them_ ," he pointed accusingly at a group of demons standing off to the sides looking a little too concerned for his tastes.

Valefor suddenly started going apeshit beside of him, Kyle turning and following his stare, finding a group approaching him from the sides. He yelped as a number of them tackled him down to the ground. He could feel Valefor biting at them, demons trying to get them off of him as his face was shoved sideways down into the stone, hands digging into his skin and fists slamming into him. He shook his hand around, trying to smack them away before a number of his attackers grabbed the appendage and slammed it back onto the ground, trying to hold him still as they continued to wail on him. His other arm and legs were held steady as well, completely open for an assault.

His heart sped in panic. He could get them off, he _knew_ he could. But he'd just be like _Damien_ , he'd be hurting mortals for his own fucking benefit. He screamed as a fist slammed into his nose, ricocheting his head against the ground. "GET OFF!" he screamed, stopped as an arm flew down against his throat, his eyes bulging in the slightest as his air was blocked off. He grunted, trying to wriggle around in the chaos, find himself a space to breathe again. Angry hazel eyes bore into him, Kyle seeing a reflection of himself rounding the glassy curve.

He was scared, he was confused.

He wasn't like them.

_Any of them_.

The arm continued pressuring his throat, a group surrounding the mortal trying to block demons from taking him from his goal. They wanted him to die. _All_ of them wanted him to **die**.

Black edged his vision, creeping along like shadows. His right eye throbbed madly, his chest aching. His lips parted, trying to beg for them to reconsider, trying to insist upon his humanity. Nothing but a choked cough broke the stifled air. This wasn't right. Nothing about this situation was right. These people didn't want anything to do with him, they just wanted him to go as they had.

He heard a distinct yelp and whimper from Valefor and something inside of him snapped, his vision returning at full speed. His lips curled in a snarl, feeling his blood chilling like ice inside of him and letting out a scream. He broke an arm from his confinement, bending his fingers and swiping towards the one overtop of him. The man's cheek split apart like cloth, muscle tissue wiggling from his jaw as blood poured out his face and he was sent sprawling to the side. Kyle screamed again, body on a course of its own as he managed to swivel up onto his side and hold his hand out, snarling as the group was sent away from him, flying in different directions and crashing onto the ground in curled heaps.

He panted, looking shadily around at the mortals surrounding him, a true, tenacious fear beginning to cloud over the lot. Kyle twitched a bit, feeling his blood fading back to nothingness, the warm heat suddenly redirecting into his chest. It spread through his lungs and sternum, almost pleasant despite the complete rage building inside of him.

The redhead shot his head over as he heard Valefor whining under the panicked cries of women and children in the crowd, finding him limping back towards him. Kyle's face dropped worriedly, rage subsiding, and he hurried over to the dog. He bent down and picked him up, tossing Valefor's massive paws over his shoulders as though he were merely a toddler. He glanced around at the humans again past Valefor's tired form and scowled. "You touch me or my dog again, and hisface is only a _taste_ of what you'll get," he jerked his head to the man with his cheek split in four deep gashes.

He turned on his heel without another word, making his way back up the hill with the dog clutched tightly in his arms. He looked to his side as Timpetan scurried up beside him. "Are you all right, My lord?"

"Fine," he bit, eyes narrowed determinedly.

"Would you like me to tend to the dog?" he asked.

Kyle sneered at him, clinging onto Valefor possessively. "Stay away if you know what's good for you," he warned. Timpetan nodded, stopping in his tracks and watching the receding redhead as he picked up his pace, nearly running into the direction of his cave. He turned back to see the mortals being rounded up and screamed to about how to treat their betters.

He took a deep breath, stealing one more glance at Kyle as he bounded away, another demon coming up beside him. "Did he not know?" he asked.

Timpetan shrugged, scratching at his scales listlessly. "I warned him..." he sighed tiredly at the cries of the humans below, unable to get Kyle's furious face and influx of power from his mind. He looked down at the demon next to him and frowned. "Master Damien will want to hear of this."


	33. Shepherding the Lambs

**Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves. -** _**Philippians 2:3** _

His fingers traced lightly over the ornate gold trimming along the door, cresting up in a swoop riding into the frame. He bit his lip, wondering if he truly wanted to go through with asking what needed so desperately to be questioned. The answer could damn near destroy him, as most other inquiries he'd had in his time in Heaven had been like.

"Are you alright, Archangel Kenneth?"

The blonde turned to see God's door guard looking at him in concern, giving him a forced smile. "I'm fine. Just...lots of questions," he murmured. "Who's in there?"

"God, Jesus, and Michael, Sir," the angel responded.

He let out a deep breath. Well, they were the three he needed, so apparently fate was telling him to get his ass in there. "Thanks," he whispered, giving him a short nod and finally pushing himself into the room, watching as the three seated at the large table looked over towards him.

"Kenneth, shouldn't you be training?" Michael raised his brow.

"Me n' Bar finished and Sel wanted the field..." he paused, gulping and clearing his throat. "And actually...I need to talk to you guys if that's okay?" he winced.

They all looked at him in concern and nodded. "Of course, Kenny," Jesus motioned for him to sit down on the other side of God. Kenny bit his lip, making his way over and awkwardly adjusting his wings to sit properly in the seat.

He looked at the three of them staring at him intently and took a deep breath. "Look, I need to know..." he shut his eyes, preparing himself for the worst. "Can Kyle die in all this?"

He reopened his eyes, seeing them looking at each other, a silent conversation spawning between them. God let out a long breath through His nose and looked at the man sympathetically. "Yes. He could," He answered quietly.

Kenny's heart dropped, much as he'd been expecting it as an answer. Things certainly didn't seem to be going his way in any other aspect of this damn war. "If one of us gets to him, right?" he whispered.

Michael nodded, "Damien certainly can't kill him, but he wouldn't be sending Kyle out to face you were he immortal..." He paused, "If we _do_ end up having to do so," he drawled out slowly, "He'd be sent back to Hell like the other demons."

Kenny narrowed his eyes in confusion, "Wait. But...then why didn't Nate come back _here_ when _he_ died? For that matter, how the fuck _did_ he die?! Wasn't he already dead?!" His eyes were practically fluttering in his bewilderment, looking at the three men and feeling far past lost and wandering into nearly shutting down.

Jesus sighed, "It's complicated, but yes. He was technically already dead. But his soul was in one piece."

He raised his brow, "Whaddya mean?"

Michael leaned back and crossed his arms, flipping his hair out of his way. "Do you recall the day I brought you up here?" Kenny nodded slowly, staring at him at full attention. "Remember how I brought your body separate from your soul so it'd remain intact?

"Right..." he continued nodding, already completely turned around and no Rand McNally to help him out.

"When a soul is bound for Heaven, it's in one piece," God explained. "Those whose souls have been tattered, even in the slightest, are sent elsewhere."

Kenny shrugged, "Okay, so they go to Hell. So Nate's still alive in Hell?"

Jesus shook his head, "Not in Hell. And well, I suppose it depends on your definition of alive," he winced.

The blonde cocked his head, "Well I mean...like us," he gestured to the four of them.

"Then no," Michael frowned. "He's not. His soul is still out there, just without a body, without a binding agent."

He put his fingers to his temple and rubbed his head. "Okay...I'm lost," he admitted.

God gave him a sad smile, linking the pads of His paws together atop the glistening glass surface beneath them. "Damien is devious, you know this," He raised His brows a bit. "He's learned a new trick it seems, one that we believe he learned specifically for _you_."

Kenny narrowed his eyes, "Trick? What kinda trick?"

"One that would sentence you to Purgatory," Jesus answered quietly. "Where, for all intents and purposes, is a kind of death."

He blinked, "Why is that death? The fuck happens in Purgatory?"

"Nothing," God shrugged. "There's two sets of Purgatory. One between Heaven and Earth, and one between Hell and Earth. Depending on where your soul is _supposed_ to end up determines which plane you are sent to."

"So Nate's in your court I would assume," he said softly, tapping his finger against the table, feeling that damn guilt settling back into his chest.

Jesus shrugged, "We can only assume. Once a soul's in Purgatory, they're out of our sight."

"Why?"

"Because it's nothingness," God replied simply. "You know the blank, white plane you find yourself in when you die before you're sentenced?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Hate that place," he rolled his eyes.

"Well, that's Purgatory," He continued. "The only difference is, _you_ have a light at the end. Those that are trapped do not."

Kenny gulped, "So...I'm like...walking through _souls_ when I'm there?"

"Parts of them, yes," Jesus nodded. "Souls there are disconnected, aimlessly spending eternity trying to find the other pieces and become whole again. Very few souls ever rekindle."

The blonde's shoulders drooped and he stared at his thighs hidden under the table. "I'm still really sorry," he whispered.

He felt a paw on his shoulder and looked to see God smiling sympathetically, "Nathaneal knew the risks, Kenneth."

"Yeah, well, I increased 'em tenfold..." he murmured with a heavy sigh, looking back up at the others. "But how did Damien send Nate to Purgatory if he belonged up here?"

Michael twisted his mouth, "You know that 'little trick' we mentioned?" He waited for Kenny to nod before sighing and continuing, "Apparently, he's learned how to shatter someone's soul and sentence them, and he plans to do the same to you. Probably to all of us really, but we know you're his target above all else. If a soul is merely 'torn' so to speak, you're merely sent to Hell. But if it's destroyed beyond who you are, you're thrown into Purgatory. So our main objective needs to be keeping _you_ away from him."

He narrowed his eyes, "Look, my main objective is getting _Kyle_ away from him."

He shook his head in frustration, "Kenneth, we _know_ this is hard, but the fact of the matter is Kyle is possibly going to be trying to strike you down. You _can't_ think that he can avoid it altogether."

Kenny slammed his hands on the table and stood, nearly knocking God off balance from beside him. Icy eyes bore into the opposing ambers and he sneered. "You're asking me to be prepared to _kill him_?!"

He stood up just as fiercely, unwavering against the blonde fury. "Yes. I am. I'm asking you to remember what you're doing here."

"Fighting. For. Kyle," he sneered.

"No, you're fighting for everyone _else_. Kyle is a threat whether you like it or not!" he shouted.

"Boys, calm down-" Jesus started before Kenny held up his hand to silence him, not giving two fucks about who was on the other end of his palm.

He took a deep breath through his nose, "Look. Maybe _you_ don't understand what this is. You don't fucking _get_ what hell the two of us have been going through!" He snapped. "I'm getting Kyle and I'm getting him _alive_. You can stand there and slay all the fucking demons you want but no one is touching Kyle but _me_ , got it?" he hissed.

Michael's eyes darkened severely, Kenny's nerves jumping in fright but refusing to let it show. Kyle had taught him well enough how to hide any fear and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to display that talent to this fuck. The elder archangel growled, "Remember that as of now, I hold more power than yourself, Kenneth."

"And remember that you're the one who _needs me_ , Michael," he retorted snarkily. "You came all the way to Earth just to get me. You said _I_ would be leading this war. So as the _leader_ I am _demanding_ that no one touches him! Am I _clear_?!" he snapped.

Michael held his stare, both of them daring the other to make the next move. He shook his head, "A leader who cares only for himself will do nothing but destroy his army," he said lowly.

"And a leader who fights for someone else at least has a goal. Without Kyle, I have no _reason_ to fight," he glowered.

The brunette took a long, steadying breath. "Fine. But if he comes after you, don't expect someone to come save you from his claws," he said sharply, turning on his heel and storming towards the door. The remaining three watched him as he slammed the barrier behind him, the echo reverberating angrily in the spacious room.

God and Jesus looked at each other with lost expressions, both of them sighing in unison. Kenny dropped his sight down to the table, his fists clenching angrily and trying to calm his breathing. "If someone kills Kyle, he just gets sent back to Hell?"

Jesus nodded slowly, still reeling in shock from the show. "Yes. But...he'd actually be dead at that point, Kenny. You wouldn't be able to get him out." He could see just how the blonde's wheels were turning.

"So...the demons we kill...they just get sent back home? Why are we fighting just for their army to be rebuilt?"

God sighed, "It's going to take a lot of power for Damien to be able to keep them all up here. If we manage to do away with him, then they're stuck down there."

"Enough...power that he might be distracted? Weakened?" Kenny perked hopefully.

They both shrugged, "We don't know," Jesus replied honestly. "We can only hope that it keeps him subdued in the least, but with the confidence he's going at this with, I truly can't tell you."

He sighed resignedly, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "What about these mortals he's sending against us?"

God's shoulders slumped a bit, "If they're killed they'll be sentenced to Purgatory. Damien messed with their souls, so-" He paused, all three of them hitting the roadblock and jolting a bit at the same time.

" _He messed with Kyle's soul, too_ ," Kenny whispered, eyes widening. " _Fuck_. FUCK FUCK **FUCK**!" he screamed, slamming his hand on the table, his mouth gaping open in panic. "What do I do?!"

God cleared His throat, straightening up firmly, "Take down Damien. Get Kyle out of his hands. It's the only chance he has, Kenneth."

Kenny nodded, slumping back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling, taking a long, shuddery breath. "Why does he hate me so much?" he whispered. "I never did anything to him."

God patted his arm once more. "It's not you in particular, Kenneth. Damien holds a grudge against anyone who wields more power than him. Or at least power that he can't comprehend."

He looked over at the deity in exhaustion. "I told him...so _much_ about my life. About Kyle's life...I feel so _stupid_."

"You're not stupid," Jesus assured him. "You couldn't have known this would happen."

He laughed listlessly. "He's the fucking _antichrist_ and I treated him like he was some guy I met at the bar. You just get so lonely in Hell, ya know?" he bit his lip. "I mean, they stopped sending me for torture a long-ass time ago, which was nice. But...especially when you have an actual life, you just cling onto anything you can, ya know?" he winced. "Fuck, I can only imagine how Kyle's doing," he groaned, dragging his hands over his face.

"The fact that he's befriended a Hellhound of all things should indicate enough," Jesus shrugged a bit.

"Not helpin', Jesus," he stated dryly.

God smirked a little at the man, "There are times for comfort and there are times for fact, Kenneth. And I know you're having enough trouble dealing with the facts that you found out those few weeks ago of Damien's plans..." He paused, watching Kenny shudder and his eyes gleam over but clear just as quickly. "Fact of the matter is...Kyle's struggling," He admitted. "Neither of you is handling this situation well."

Kenny looked down guiltily, "Can you blame us? This isn't exactly something we planned for."

"We know, we know," Jesus nodded empathetically. "Look, Kyle is going to hang on desperately to any hope he can, that's why he believed Nathaneal's lie. You need to do the same, but with caution. _You_ knowthe truth, but he's having to start from the ground up and figure out the rules on his own."

"That's usually how he does shit anyway," he smiled sadly. He took a deep breath, glancing over to the large window beside them, sunlight peeking through the panes like false, taunting glimmers of bliss. "Is there any way to fix his soul?" he murmured. "If I can't get Damien's blood out, fine, but can I at least make it so he's not doomed?"

"I could," God said softly. "But you'd have to get a hold of him. Get Damien down and we can save him as best we can, Kenneth. But if he falls, he's out of all our hands, even mine," He noted as gently as He could muster.

Kenny nodded silently, leaning his chin into his palm and letting his eyes lazily trace the edges of a cloud hovering in front of the glass. The rules of this game just seemed to be getting worse and worse with every step they took, every day closer to the end was piling on top of them and fast. He took a deep breath, wincing a bit as sunlight broke through his cloud and invaded his blue eyes. He knew well enough though, all they could do was play the game and, hopefully, figure out how use the precedents to their own advantages.

* * *

Sitting at his desk flipping a paper back and forth listlessly, he couldn't help but sigh yet again for perhaps the fiftieth time in a row. Satan's free hand tapped against his face, black eyes scanning about but unable to find any focus. He groaned, tossing the sheet to the side and rubbing at his temple. Way too much excitement going on in the last few months.

A knock came at his door and he looked at it unenthusiastically. "What?" he mumbled. A black, scaled head poked inside and he raised his brow. "What's wrong, Timpetan?"

The demon cleared his throat, stepping into the office and slowly closing the door behind him. He cautiously made his way to the front of the room, bowing respectably, "Lord Satan, I harbor some...concerns about someone," he winced.

"You and me both," he muttered. "Go on, sit down," he gestured, watching the tall demon slowly seating himself, never breaking eye contact. "Did something happen?"

He sighed, "The mortal that Master Damien turned, Sir..."

"Kyle, right," he nodded.

"Yes, well...the newcomers attacked him."

"Oh geez," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is he all right?"

He gulped and nodded, "Yes. He got them all off by himself," he laughed meekly.

The Beast paused, looking down at him with a quirked brow. "How many mortals are we talking, here?"

He shrugged, "Forty, fifty, somewhere in that range."

Satan leaned back, crossing his arms. "Huh. Was Damien controlling him?" The demon shook his head and he twisted his mouth. "Wow. And how did he react?"

Timpetan scratched his head, "He took his Hellhound and told everyone to stay away from him, myself included when I offered to help."

"Oh boy," he murmured, tapping a claw against his arm. "And why does this concern you, Timpetan?"

"Well..." he started slowly, "He just seems very...foolhardy," he said carefully. "Forgive my bluntness, but I feel as though perhaps Master Damien..." he trailed off a bit and winced.

"Put his cards into the wrong deck?" Satan shrugged. The demon nodded and he sighed. "Yeah, I'm gettin' the same vibe, Timp. Hell, I told him that when he first abducted Kyle," he said with an eye roll.

The demon cleared his throat, "May I ask, why _that_ mortal, My Lord?"

"You no doubt remember Kenny McCormick?" he asked, waiting for conformation before proceeding. "That's his fiancé." Timpetan paused, letting out a soft 'oh'. Satan continued, "The plan sounded great in writing, but Damien didn't account for the strength of his soul and Kyle's rebelling and, well, you know how Dam gets," he rolled his eyes again.

He smiled meekly, "Not my place to say, Lord Satan."

The Beast snorted and shook his head. "According to Damien, it's not _mine_ either...Have you told him what Kyle did?"

"Not yet. Myself and a few others believed to bring it up to _you_ first would be a better option, My Lord."

"And why is that?" He questioned. "I'm staying out of this planning bullshit. Dam's taken the reins."

"Exactly," he said softly. "Lord Satan, we _all_ remember how humiliating our defeat was last time we engaged in this conflict. But now with the mortal army plan faltering, our odds are even worse than they were then."

He nodded, "I know. I agree."

He blinked in shock. "You...you do?"

Satan shrugged, "You were there when I was yelling at Damien, Timpetan. And since then, my feelings on the matter have only worsened. This war is fruitless. Kenny is going to win, I have no doubts..." he paused and let out a sigh. "But you know my son. He apparently inherited the damn rebellion that I tried to push back," he rolled his eyes. "It could be just him against Heaven and he'd still go for it."

Timpetan winced and nodded, knowing full and well how right the monster in front of him was, but not quite having the balls to jump on that bandwagon. "Is there anything we can do, My Lord?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "No. Damien's going to do what he's going to do and that's pretty much the end of it...What exactly did Kyle do?" he questioned.

"I'm not sure _what_ he was doing," he replied honestly. "He just stormed past me despite my warning and went down to them and...He looked as though he wanted to say something, but faltered at the last minute when they started becoming angry."

Satan blinked before his face fell solemnly. "He wants them to help him," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, My Lord?"

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and tapping a cloven hoof atop the floor. "Damien didn't wipe his humanity clean so he's wanting to prove he's still mortal...even though he's technically right in-between the two species," he shrugged. "Poor kid is probably having the identity crisis of a lifetime," he groaned.

"You...feel bad for this mortal?" he asked skeptically.

"Look, I didn't _choose_ this job, okay?" he snapped a bit, softening as the demon recoiled in fright. He sighed again, "I like Kenny. He's told me tons of stories about Kyle," he waved towards the door aimlessly. "They're both good kids. It's unfortunate that they're the two caught in the middle." He smirked a bit at Timpetan's blank expression. "I know you couldn't give two shits about them, Timp."

He shrugged, "To be honest, I'm mutual to any mortal who isn't a piece of shit little prick trying to attack us for doing our job," he rolled his yellow eyes.

Satan snorted, "Well, I'm sure that were he not in his particular situation, Kyle would probably just be nothing but a smart-mouthed asshole according to Kenny."

"Not like we're not used to that," he smirked lightly, getting a good chuckle out of the Beast. "My Lord," he asked once he calmed a bit, "May I ask a rather forward question?"

"Go ahead," he shrugged, watching him intently.

"What do _you_ want to happen here?" he asked softly.

He blinked, looking down at his desk and taking a long, heavy breath. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm sick of all this shit," he gestured around to the papers scattered about. "But I guess over the years I've just...well not _accepted_ it, but gotten used to it," he grumbled. "I hate to admit it but Damien got my hopes up when the idea started. But everything is falling apart on our end and he just won't admit to it, he's too much like...well, me," he rolled his eyes. "I personally think we're wasting our time and no one will benefit from this."

"Master Damien seems to think he'll benefit," Timpetan commented quietly.

He nodded, eyes glazing over solemnly. "Yes, well, unfortunately...he's the only person in this game who's won something so far."

"You mean the mortal?"

He nodded again, looking towards his door and shaking his head. "And even with _him_ he's still struggling to hold on to his prize." He looked back down at the concerned monster and shrugged, "All we can do is hope that he wakes up and sees what he's doing."

"I suppose," he agreed softly. "Sorry for intruding, My Lord."

He waved dismissively, "You weren't intruding. It's what I'm here for. Look, wait awhile before you tell Damien what Kyle did, all right? The kid probably needs some time to himself."

Timpetan nodded, "Though, I have a feeling even giving him some time won't do much good to be completely honest, My Lord."

He smiled sadly, chest wrenching guiltily as two very distinct red-eyed figures flashed through his mind, "Yeah. You and me both."


	34. A Man's Counsel

**Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up. -** _**Ecclesiastes 4:9-11** _

He hated what the small, dingy room had become. It was his only sanctuary. The only place that he could run away to. No more sneaking off into the night to Kenny's house like when he was a teenager. No more storming off to his favorite cafe outside of his university when a professor just beat on his last nerve. He couldn't find comfort in his bed, grabbing Kenny's pillow and taking long breaths to calm his anxiety. Instead, he was stuck with this: Nothing but a square stone space with chains and a broken door.

He stepped back into the room, Valefor still tightly clutched in his grip. "I'm so sorry," he whispered to the dog for probably the twentieth time since he'd run off from the mortals. He kneeled down, placing Valefor back onto the ground and getting onto his knees in front of him. The dog merely leaned forward and licked his face and Kyle sighed, reaching up and petting his head. "I didn't think it'd go like that," he admitted. "I don't know _how_ I thought it'd go but I certainly didn't think they'd be so gung-ho about attacking me...ya know?" he winced.

He glanced down at Valefor's paws, noticing him favoring his right leg. He grimaced, gently reaching down and grasping the left. "Shhhh," he cooed when he whimpered softly. He narrowed his eyes at it, clasping the leg in both of his hands. He let his anger seep out through his fingertips, rushing out through him into the canine. Valefor's whines dropped off right away as Kyle's eyes began to glow.

How dare they. How fucking _dare they._

His body seemed to have a little burst of its own before it quelled, releasing Valefor's paw as the tide settled. He watched him putting weight back on it and smiled sadly, looking back into those deep red eyes. "Better?" he asked softly. The dog wriggled it's nubby tail a bit, licking his face again and he smirked, scratching his ear lightly. "Good boy," he whispered. He sighed, moving and sitting back against the wall, Valefor plopping down and lying his paws and head on his legs, relishing in his fingers continuing to tousle his fur. Kyle stared blankly above him at the dark void of the ceiling.

This was bad. Where did he even _stand_? They wouldn't listen to a word he said. If he got back home, would it be the same? Would people just _know_ that something was off about him? And what about Kenny? He knew the situation, but would he be able to deal with a natural anger coiling inside of him spawning from this damn circumstance that Kyle hadn't been able to avoid? Kyle pouted a bit, biting over his lip gently. This just wasn't _fair_. He just _had_ to be in the middle of this, didn't he? Why did his luck always just seem to betray him? He was beyond sick of just being in the middle of these conflicts that he had literally no control over. Silly him thinking that'd all end once he left South Park.

"What do I do, Val?" he asked tiredly, tracing over the dog's skull with a light finger. "I can't kill Damien, I can't round up mortals, and now those demon fuckers know I'm an idiot," he rolled his eyes. "I'm on my own... _fuck_ I wish Ken could tell me what to do," he closed his eyes, lightly beating his head against the wall behind him. He gulped, Kenny had told him to follow orders...but what about _now_? Knowing Damien's intentions, following his orders was the absolute _last_ thing that Kyle wanted to do. "What would he tell me?" he whispered, trying to stare through the ceiling up into Heaven, trying to get _some_ indication. In any normal circumstance, he knew well enough that Kenny would tell him to fight, to not give an ounce of leeway. But here? Here everything was turned on its head. Kyle wasn't the strongest anymore. He wasn't the sharpest. He met someone who could get to him and already had...But how much further would Kenny tell him to let Damien take him before it was _too_ much?

"He'd tell me to fight...right?" he asked meekly. "To not let him touch me?" he winced. After all, Kenny had a bit of a habit proclaiming that Kyle's body belonged to him, going so far as to hold Kyle down and write that shit on his back in permanent marker now and again just to sate his own overzealous appetite. But Damien had already _taken_ part of his body for himself, much as Kyle hated to admit it. No doubt _that_ had already thrown the blonde into some serious inner turmoil. Yet, Kenny told him to still keep himself open for a bit of command. He wasn't stupid, it was so he wouldn't get hurt. But Damien's fucking plan _guaranteed_ he'd be hurt even worse.

The redhead groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose exhaustively. This was just too fucking much.

"Oh...oh my! Is that really you?" an accented voice perked.

Both Kyle and Valefor shot their heads to the door, finding a short, skinny blonde lingering in the doorway with a large, hopeful smile on his face. "Get out," Kyle hissed, Valefor hopping off his lap and assuming his protective position.

The blonde waved his hands in front of him defensively. "Just...please. Are you Kyle?" The redhead paused, putting a hand on Valefor's back hesitantly. "Kyle Broflovski?"

Kyle raised his brow, slowly getting to his feet. "How the fuck did you know that?"

He smiled wider from the confirmation. "Perhaps you don't remember me," he gestured to himself up and down. "It's been quite a few years since we've seen each other, hm?" he chuckled. "I'm Pip. Remember?" he grinned.

Kyle blinked, the name vaguely flickering in his weary mind. "Pip. Pip...Pirrup?" he asked in disbelief. The man nodded wildly and his eyes widened. "Holy shit. Dude. You died like..." he looked up in thought. "Fifteen years ago, shit." He looked back at him confusedly. "How are you..." he gestured to his adult body.

He shrugged. "I haven't hit my peak yet. You don't start being tortured until you hit your age peak. We work instead," he chuckled. "I believe I have another two years before my turn starts, hm?" he shrugged again with a sheepish grin. "It's wonderful to see you again, Kyle. How are you?"

His lips turned up a bit, not giving two shits who it was in front of him. It was someone _familiar._ He briskly walked up to him and grabbed around him, a little unnerved to finally find someone his own goddamn height, but tugging him in tightly. "Dude, Pip, you have _no_ idea how great it is to see you," he clasped around him tighter.

Pip blinked in surprised, his bones aching a bit from Kyle's strength, but returning the embrace nonetheless. "Yes, I saw you had a bit of a scuffle at the gates," he relayed.

Kyle pulled back and cocked his head, "You saw?" he asked embarrassedly.

The blonde nodded, "I help open the gates. I was standing at the back and saw you and...and I just _knew_ that I knew you from somewhere. And since I've only known about three redheads in my time I just knew it had to be you!" he beamed.

He chuckled, filled with an overwhelming sense of relief before it was quickly replaced with panic. "Did...did anyone see you coming here?"

Pip shook his head. "I snuck off around back while the newbies were being screamed at," he explained. "I'm terribly sorry I just followed you, but you just looked so sad," he pouted.

Kyle winced, "Yeah well...this situation hasn't exactly been the time of my life." He sighed, turning and looking down as Valefor sat at his side. He caught Pip staring at him nervously and chuckled, "This is Valefor," he said, patting his head gently. "If I'm okay with you, he is, too."

"Oh, very good then," he nodded sharply. "Hello there, little puppy," he smiled, patting his muzzle. He looked back up at Kyle's face and his deadened heart lurched. He had bruises and blood coating his profile, a quick glance down showing his infected and scarred arms and torso. "Oh my," he murmured, brown eyes glazing over sadly. His gaze locked into those red and marbled eyes, looking forlorn and impaired beyond a thin, happy glaze at the company. "Kyle, what on Earth happened to you?" he asked sadly.

Kyle blushed a bit and cleared his throat, folding his finger as he walked out of the dungeon with Valefor at his hip. The Brit turned his head and quickly followed behind him as Kyle led them all towards the pond, kneeling beside it and beginning to clean off his fresh wounds. Pip kneeled across from him, cocking his head at the redhead quietly working. "I was kidnapped," he finally murmured.

"By Damien I assume?" he questioned. A subtle nod confirmed and he smiled sadly. "Yes, he _would_ be the one to do something like that." He paused, "But what on Earth would he take _you_ for...No offense, of course," he winced.

The Jew chuckled dryly, continuing to clean himself off. "Do you remember Kenny McCormick from our class?"

He nodded, "Indeed I do. I saw him now and then on my shifts. He got so _tall_ ," he raised his hand a bit in show.

Kyle snorted, "Yeah, bastard's almost a foot taller than me...Loves to rub that in my face."

"You still talk? That's wonderful!" Pip clapped excitedly.

He smirked, "More than talk. We're engaged," he flashed his ring quickly.

"Oh my, that's even better!" he beamed. "Congratulations!"

Kyle cleared his throat awkwardly and blushed, "Thanks," he said. "But... _because_ of that little fact, Damien grabbed me to make Kenny stop trying to lead the angel army. And when Ken refused to back down...he took me down here and made me...this," he gestured to himself tiredly, reaching behind him and scratching Valefor's neck.

"Oh dear," he twisted his mouth sympathetically. "Well, that's just awful."

"Tell me about it," he muttered. He looked up at Pip and raised his brow a bit, "So...why aren't you scared of me like the rest of the mortals?"

He shrugged, "I can't lie to you, I feel uncomfortable. But I know you," he smiled. "I remember you from when we were little. You were always so kind. I just can't bring myself to believe that you're a murderer or something of the sort."

He smiled softly, "Thanks. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

Pip nodded, "I can just tell that something is eating you right up."

The redhead shrugged, "I'm a... _demon_ , Pip," he murmured, shuddering with the utterance. He hated it. He _hated_ admitting the term, but there was little else to say. He couldn't just simply deny it at this point. "I'm a demon...and Kenny's up there being an archangel," he looked up at the autumn-leaf sky and sighed exhaustively. "We were always different but _now_ we're two separate species entirely."

"Doesn't mean you can't get along," Pip shrugged. He caught Kyle's skeptical expression and chuckled, "I remember seeing cats and dogs back on Earth who were just the best of little buddies," he smiled. "And you're still Kyle," he waved towards him aimlessly. "Look at you. So your eyes and teeth are different, so what?"

"And, ya know, I can lift shit with my mind," he replied dryly. "And throw fifty people off of me at once."

He bit his lip thoughtfully, "So you have bonuses now." He patted Kyle's shoulder lightly, "Being a minion of Hell isn't the _end_ you know. Look at me, I'm still the same ol' Pip," he beamed proudly.

"Yeah but...you're also not infected with demon blood," he pointed out.

"What's a bit of blood got to do with who you are?" he waved the notion away. "If you were actually like Damien, why, you would've killed all of those people right off the bat!" he exclaimed. Kyle raised his brow and he continued, "I've been down here for a long time," he reminded him. "I know what demons are like, _especially_ Damien," he shuddered. "He's quite rude to say the least. Why, he'll rip out someone's throat just for coughing in his direction!"

"Jesus Christ," he whispered with a wince, looking down at his claws and flexing his fingers. He split that man's cheek open with so _little_ effort, the blood still caked and flaking under the keratin. Damien would definitely be the one to use that to his advantage where he saw fit.

Pip prattled on, "But you only injured one man to get him off of you! You didn't damage him beyond repair, remember. That's not the demon way, Kyle."

Kyle sat in silence, letting his words soak into the marrow of his bones. He needed to hear that. _God_ did he need to hear that. Valefor moved to sit next to him and Kyle leaned his head against his fur. Pip had to be right. There had to be _some_ part of him that wasn't demonized. After all, he could still think for himself. Not clearly all the way along, but enough where he knew damn well that he didn't want to be like the monster who'd done this to him. He winced, feeling the warmth in his chest trying to radiate back into his bloodstream and taking a long, winded breath.

He glanced back up to see Pip staring at him expectantly and smiled sadly, "You know, Ken loved to tell me that I was the master of coincidences." He sighed. "I got into the last spot in grad school because one of the other applicants I was competing against, who was literally a fucking prodigy, got really sick and missed her interview. I got our apartment only because I managed to call at the exact time the landlords were switching over and they lost our bad credit score in the move..." he looked back at the confused blonde and shrugged. "The fact that _you_ were right there and saw me just fucking proves that he was right."

Pip smiled gently, "You see? Things will work out, Kyle, I just know it. Fate seems to be on your side, despite your current circumstance."

He tried to return the expression before hissing slightly, the heat trying once more to spread throughout his body. "What the fuck is going on?" he whimpered, grasping around his arms and curling into himself.

"Oh dear, Kyle, are you all right?" Pip asked worriedly, scooting closer to him and squeezing his shoulder.

"Something's happening," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. His body was in a war that he couldn't make out; Shrapnel was embedding itself into his organs, chemical weaponry was being spilt into his blood stream. The heat was pulsing, like it was a living breathing creature within Kyle's body. Just waiting, prowling; Just biding its time until he lowered his defenses. He was all at once brimming with a sudden instinctual fear:

It was trying to eat him alive.

His hearing abandoned ship, weakly glancing to see Pip talking to him briskly, trepidation lingering in his chocolate stare. He couldn't make out one syllable, only hearing his heart pounding madly in his chest. He couldn't feel Valefor pressing his nose under his arm urgently, trying to get his attention, trying to snap him out of it. His right eye throbbed, pulsing madly within his skull, but he couldn't move an arm to get to it. Kyle's claws pushed against his skin, breaking through the flesh. His nerves couldn't seem to be bothered, every ounce of him focused on the battle raging inside his body.

He dropped his mouth, trying to speak, seeing Pip's eyes light up hopefully. He managed only a choked breath before every ounce of pain got the best of him, and he fell forward onto the ground in an unconscious, broken heap.


	35. Calming the Sea

**The eye is the lamp of the body; so then if your eye is clear, your whole body will be full of light. -** _**Matthew 6:22** _

His foot tapped impatiently against the clouded floor, thumb stroking along the charcoal braided line coasting the hilt of Revery. "Where is he?" he asked disinterestedly, looking over at Raphael standing next to him, casually inspecting his own sword.

"Patience, Selaphiel," he murmured cooly, sliding Liberality snugly back into its sheath. "He's had a rough couple of days."

"Haven't we all?" he smirked lightly, green eyes flickering about to the viewing balcony. He let out a long breath, blowing wavy brunette bangs out of his vision. "So what happened this time?"

Raphael paused and crossed his arms, shrugging, "He learned Kyle can die. He's taking it pretty hard."

"Well I would imagine," he cocked his brow. "Honestly I'd be concerned if he _didn't_ have troubles with it."

"Yes, well, if you could pass that mindset on to Uriel and Michael, that'd be swell," he rolled his eyes. The two of them had been unbearable the last few days. Uriel was still hiding away to himself, avoiding any and all of them at all costs. And now Michael was stomping around grumbling how Kenny didn't know anything, that he was going to lead them all to their deaths if he wouldn't cooperate and figure out just where his loyalty was _supposed_ to lie. He glanced over to see Selaphiel casually bouncing his blade against his leg, hopping from one foot to the next as he kept his sight locked upwards, waiting for Kenny. "How are you like this?" he asked quietly.

Selaphiel looked over at him and cocked his head, "Like what? Handsome?"

He rolled his eyes again and shook his head with a tiny smirk. "No. You're so nonchalant."

The angel shrugged, stretching his arms above his head, "It's just Kenneth. I think I can handle a 20-some year old mortal."

"Not what I meant," he scoffed. "I mean the war. You haven't been practicing nearly as much as the rest of us."

Selaphiel chuckled, "Well, Kenneth needs the field more than I do," he reminded him. "Besides, I'm not _overly_ worried."

"Oh really?" he raised a skeptical brow.

He nodded curtly in confirmation, "Look, the mortal army is falling through, right? And our numbers are actually stackable against the offense this time. I have a good feeling that we'll be just fine."

"And what of Kyle?"

"What about him?" he blinked.

Raphael shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Do you believe that he's a threat or casualty waiting to happen?"

Selaphiel paused, lips twisting in thought. He honestly had no idea, trying not to concern himself with the fate of one mortal. But he knew just as well as everyone else scattered about: This question _mattered_. "I don't know," he replied honestly with a small shrug back. "To be honest, I haven't dwelled on it. I'm not going to be the one who is hunted down by and/or saving him," he reminded his fellow archangel. "All I know is that the odds are in our favor and Damien is a _fool_ to continue this mission. Kenneth may have been our saving grace last time, but perhaps he doesn't _need_ to be this time."

He stared at him in confusion, "What do you mean? He's already demonstrated his power exceeds most of ours."

He snorted, "Power or not, don't forget, Demons are weak when you get down to it. Especially since so few of them harbor their own abilities, hm?" he smirked cockily. "It'll be easy to take down those waves, and we can let Kenneth focus his energy on where _he_ believes it needs to be."

Raphael narrowed his eyes, "We _need_ him to be aiding us."

"In particular, we need him to take down Damien. That's the whole reason we grabbed him," he reminded him with an eye roll, lightly tapping Revery against the clouds. "And if Kyle is _connected_ to Damien, then Kenneth's focus is right where it needs to be. He takes down Damien, saves Kyle, Hell falls, and we all go back to being bored with our lives," he said dryly.

Raphael couldn't help but smile, nodding at his words. Selaphiel had a hell of a point. "I'm glad you harbor such confidence in him. God knows he doesn't have it for himself."

He shrugged, "Look, he's got everyone on his side except Uriel, and Uriel's a dickhead," he scoffed. "And if Kenneth would perhaps show up to training _on time_ maybe we could get him to feel some for himself, too," he pouted.

Raphael laughed, patting his shoulder, "I'm sure he just-"

"SORRY!" a frantic voice called from above, cutting him off. They both looked up with smirks to see Kenny leaping down and landing in front of them, heavy bags lingering under his eyes. "Sorry, finally fell asleep and couldn't get back up," he muttered sheepishly.

They both smiled at him sadly. "You're fine, Kenneth," Selaphiel cooed. He paused, seeing Kenny's slightly shaking state. "Are you sure you don't want to rest more and then come back?"

He shook his head stubbornly, "No. C'mon, let's just do this. I can sleep later," he assured him, hand automatically flying to Resurrection's hilt. "Show me whatcha got," he stated, letting the blade _schling_ out of its hold.

Selaphiel snorted, looking at Raphael amusedly, "No confidence, huh?"

"It was a working theory," he teased back lightly, giving them both short nods and leaping up, flying himself up to sit on the balcony to watch the show below.

Selaphiel looked back at the blonde who was licking his lips and looking rearing to go. "You seem to be in a better mood," he relayed casually, twirling Revery like a baton in his hand.

"Not better," he corrected tiredly. "Had a bad dream. Need to bash it out."

"Ah, so I'm your punching bag then," he nodded a bit, hopping back from Kenny.

He shrugged, "You're the one who wanted to train with me."

"Michael ordered me, actually," he smirked, Revery swaying from beside him and sharp eyes scanning over Kenny's form as he began to take his plfug positioning.

Kenny's face dropped into a furious scowl at the name, "Yeah, well, Michael doesn't know _shit,"_ he spat.

Selaphiel blinked, "Calm down, Kenneth. I'm not your enemy here."

"Didn't say you were. You gonna fight or what?" he snapped.

The brunette shook his head, "So fussy and demanding. You really needed your nappy time, didn't you?" he feigned a pout, watching amusedly as Kenny's nose scrunched in slight frustration. "All right," he sighed dramatically, taking his own stance and jerking his head back a bit, beckoning the blonde forward. "Why don't you show me what _you_ got?" he challenged.

He watched with a grin as Kenny's eyes gleamed over automatically, the blonde lunging forward and slamming their swords together. Kenny's light sparked between them, sending him flying backwards a bit. He landed on a light foot, skipping back as Kenny flew at him full speed, trying to keep airy on his toes and parry off each of Kenny's thrusts. Selaphiel grunted as Resurrection slammed into the bottom of his blade, throwing him slightly off balance. He caught Kenny's foot out of the corner of his eye, swiveling with his free hand to catch his ankle. He continued his smooth pivot, tossing the blonde behind him.

Kenny stumbled, awkwardly landing on his knee and following his momentum to bring himself back upright, wings trying to help him back onto his feet. Glass eyes widened as Selaphiel came towards him with Revery raised to strike. He pressed off with his right foot, heading straight towards the angel in a blinding speed and holding his free arm out in front of his face. Selaphiel couldn't bring his defense down quick enough, Ken's forearm slamming into his chest and throwing him back once again.

He managed to evade Kenny's clumsy swing of his sword, landing across from him, the both of them panting and staring at each other assertively, daring the other to take the next step. Selaphiel chuckled, chest pounding from the assault and lungs trying to give him back his air. "You play dirty," he commented.

"Only way I know how," he shot back with a small smirk.

Raphael watched from above with a relieved smile, hearing some of the real Kenny poking back through. He couldn't help but chuckle, knowing full and well how Michael had planned this: The only way to get Kenny back and fighting for the right things was to get himself to come out of the broken shell he'd been shoved into, and _nothing_ brings out a smartass more than a personality to rival one's own.

"I can only imagine," Selaphiel drawled out, tonguing over his lips a bit as his breathing fell back into regulation. "You seem like a country bumpkin to me, after all."

"Oh really?" he cocked his brow.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I've never known white trash to fight like a gentleman. I'm not utterly surprised with your technique."

Kenny scoffed, "Well _excuse me,_ Miss Priss. Did I need to take you out for a nice dinner first? Lightly challenge you to a round of fisticuffs?"

He snorted, leaping forward and bringing down Revery time and again, watching Kenny easily parrying off each strike, impressed by his advancement. The last time he'd seen Kenny with Resurrection in actual combat, the blonde missed the wooden post and somehow managed to slam the sword into the wall and smack himself in the head with it. His progress was exponential, a force to be reckoned with. Not that he'd let _him_ know that. Not yet at least.

"Come now," he gritted his teeth, pressing their blades against each other with a great deal of pressure. "Is this all you can do? I thought you've been _training_ ," he taunted.

"More than you, you lazy hack," he scoffed, eyes glistening and another round of light striking between the both of them. The glow spread between both blades, coating them each in a shimmering array of white. Selaphiel hissed, Revery's hilt suddenly feeling as though it were on fire. He bounded back, dropping the sword and gazing at a deep red mark on his hand. He flickered his green eyes back up to the blonde in astonishment, seeing Kenny watching him disinterestedly. "I thought we were sparring," he drawled. "If you're already done then I'm just going back to bed."

"You can burn," he murmured, blinking at him slowly. "Your light _burns_ ," he held up his palm in display.

Kenny's face instantly fell guiltily, "Shit, I'm sorry, Sel. You okay?"

"Fine, just...surprised," he laughed in disbelief, looking back at the mark in wonder. "I didn't know you could do that."

"Neither did I," he winced sheepishly. "Dude, seriously though, do we need to find a sink and some aloe?"

He rolled his eyes, "I _think_ I can take care of myself, Kenneth, thanks."

He pouted, "Well you treat so many burns on your fiancé over the years and ya kinda naturally go for helpin', _sorry,_ " he waved his hands in the air dramatically.

Selaphiel raised his brow, "Is he that clumsy?"

He smirked, "No. Kinky. Big difference when you _want_ it to happen," he winked cheekily, feeling a strange relief flittering in his chest. He'd been so wound up the last few days, but suddenly his body was trying to relax him. He couldn't be more grateful for the reprieve, finally not feeling like on the brink of losing his mind. It strengthened as Selaphiel burst into laughter, shaking his head as he listlessly shook his burnt hand.

"So you're an expert in first aid, then?" he chuckled.

He shrugged, "When you get hit by shit as much as me and hit _Kyle_ as much as me, you pick up a few pointers along the way."

"That's disgusting," he teased.

"You're just jealous," he said primly. "No one to smack your ass, so you're sad," he gestured towards him aimlessly. Selaphiel rolled his eyes and the blonde smirked. "So. Are you actually wanting to continue or did I hurt your poor wittle hand too much?" he pouted.

The man grinned, his eyes glowing a bright, neon green. "Don't need my hand for this," he purred cockily, jerking his arm up. Kenny watched him with a confused expression before feeling the clouds shaking beneath him. His eyes widened as a large chain burst from underneath him, Selaphiel's clean hand grasping around an edge and wrapping around his wrist tautly. The iron was glimmering iridescently in the sunlight, Kenny caught in its trance for a moment before instinct kicked him into high gear, trying to jump away from it. He yelped as it snaked around his leg and waist, a portion of links jerking upwards and snagging Resurrection from his grip, tossing it uselessly on the ground.

He growled, wings flapping as he lifted into the air, trying to pry the restrictive metal off his waist. Blue eyes began to gloss over, a sneer spreading on his face as the cable continued to worm its way up his body and constrain him. He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest as it tightened around him, locking him into place. His wings did him no favors as he looked to see Selaphiel grinning in victory and bringing his arm back down. Kenny gulped as his body was dragged uselessly down in the heavy binding, wings bending at the air force as they tried to keep him upright.

He landed on his knees with a groan, shaking his head as the sickly smell of the iron completely invaded his nostrils. Selaphiel cocked his brow, "You can burn, but I can bind."

His face fell confusedly as Kenny's broke into a smug grin. "Two of the things I'm best at," he replied snarkily. He took a long, deep breath, the chain following his movement and expanding over his crossed arms. He held the air for a moment, looking to see Resurrection just off to his side. Another glance showed Selaphiel still looking at him as though he were a fool.

Good.

Kenny smirked, releasing his air and using the slack to quickly uncross his arms over his head, taking the chains with it. He felt Selaphiel going to put them back into place as he quickly lunged over and grabbed Resurrection's hilt, eyes glazing over and bringing his lighted blade down onto the chains. He watched as link by link, each piece slithered with his white coloring, leading up to around Selaphiel's wrist. The angel hissed, shaking himself from the burn and the restraint around Kenny's legs fell slack. He tongued over his lips, using his freed appendages and rushing forward, tackling Selaphiel down onto the ground in his distraction and swiftly moving his blade to the angel's throat.

Selaphiel's eyes fell back into normalcy as Kenny chuckled. "How's _that_ for white trash fightin'?" he teased.

He broke into a wide grin, "I'm impressed. I truly am. Now get off of me."

He gave a feigned scoff of indignation, hopping back onto his feet and reaching down to assist the elder archangel. "You tie me up and then you don't want me. Gotta tell ya, you're sending me mixed signals here, Sel," he snorted.

The brunette rolled his eyes, "You wish."

"Not particularly," he laughed, looking at Selaphiel's face and his smile dropping a bit.

The man noticed and cocked his head, "Kenneth? What's wrong?"

He shook himself from his frozen stare and cleared his throat, a blush riding the very tips of his cheeks. "You have the same color eyes that Kyle does...well... _used to_ ," he grumbled, taking a deep breath.

"Erm...I'm...sorry?" he winced.

The man snorted softly, "Yeah. How dare you," he shook his head. "I loved his eyes," he mumbled almost to himself.

He smiled crookedly, "Well, sorry, but I'm not going to be a donor."

"Selfish, Sel," he teased. "Won't do anything for anyone but yourself."

"Yeah, pretty much," he agreed. He paused and watched the blonde fidgeting, playing with Resurrection's blade along his fingertips. "Are you upset you lost that?" he asked gently.

He shrugged, "Yeah. I mean, it's a stupid thing to be upset about," he admitted tiredly. "But...I dunno. You get used to something like that and then it changes and...it's just not fair, ya know?" he winced. "That bastard changed enough of him, he didn't need to alter his damn looks, too," he muttered.

Selaphiel nodded in agreement, "It's bullshit," he said plainly. "But I don't think Damien got to exactly choose the physical makeup."

"Good thing, the bastard has terrible taste," he sighed, feeling Selaphiel placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He smiled fondly, staring at Resurrection's reflection of himself. "Once, I was super drunk and wrote him a poem about his eyes," he said softly. "I called them the same color as mold and how I wanted to see them when I got old," he shook his head at himself. "Kyle showed me it the next morning and wouldn't stop ragging on about how gay I was for days...But he kept it. I found it in his nightstand drawer like the fag he is," he snorted before it faded off. "Guess that's out of date now," he murmured.

Selaphiel chuckled and shook his head, "Well, eye color isn't everything. Now it's...spicy mold," he wriggled his fingers. Kenny kept his lips sealed, trying not to burst out laughing at the comparison.

"Well, that's Kyle, spicy as fuck," he chortled.

"So they match his personality now, he has that goin' for him," he shrugged casually, trying to dispel the disappointment lingering between them as best as he could. "It'll be fine, Kenny. I promise."

He glanced up at him uncertainly, "How can you promise that?"

"Because I'm selfish and I want it to be okay so I'll make it so," he recounted primly. Another smile crept up Kenny's lips and the angel winked at him, patting his shoulder firmly. "Shall we go again? Or do you want to sleep?"

"Nah, let's keep going," Kenny nodded, stepping back away from him again and watching Selaphiel bending to grab Revery, the red marks gleaming on his hand and wrists. He took a deep breath, glancing up into the sunlight and biting his lip. He could only pray that only Kyle's appearance changed, but things weren't seeming to head in that direction. He knew well enough that everything on the table was setting up for disaster, an overconfident fool wanting to rip the tablecloth from underneath without finding the correct angle. He shuddered, just hoping beyond hope that he wasn't going to be that particular fool.


	36. Rescue me from Evil Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Noncon in this chapter
> 
> Though if you've been keeping up you knew this was coming guys Damien was practically walking around without pants I mean seriously.
> 
> Enjoy~

**Jesus replied and said, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers, and they stripped him and beat him, and went away leaving him half dead." -** _**Luke 10:30** _

He couldn't say for sure just _what_ his fascination spawned from, whether it be merely a power trip or finally witnessing his own little brand of justice rippling through the air. Damien walked around the open space slowly, watching with lax eyes as demons hovered over mortal prey, spouting incantations and loosening the grip on their souls. It was a delicious sight to be sure, one that he could stay and watch for the entirety of the process were he not busy presiding over every little detail about this damn war.

"Master Damien?" a voice piqued through the quiet murmurings echoing about.

He snapped his head behind him, watching Timpetan approaching him and giving him a curt nod. "Timpetan, what can I do for you?" he drawled, slightly annoyed by the interruption.

The slender demon cleared his throat, "It's in regards to...your mortal, My lord," he said softly.

He quirked his brow, "Yes, he seems to have been quiet this past week. Been busy, you know, haven't seen him," he waved his hand dismissively. He'd been waiting for news, knowing well enough that Kyle was venturing outside of his cave. He knew it'd only be a matter of time before someone reported to him what was happening with the small redhead, not needing to waste the energy checking it out for himself.

Timpetan licked over his lips, "He...he was attacked at the gates, Master Damien. By the newcomers."

He couldn't help but laugh darkly, "Oh was he?" His red eyes glittered deviously. Stubborn little redhead just couldn't help himself, could he? Wanting so _badly_ to pretend to be one of them yet again. "And just what happened?"

"He managed to get about fifty of them off of him by himself, My lord," he reported.

Damien blinked, narrowing his eyes. Kyle managed to wield that kind of power but hadn't peaked? He straightened up, looking at the now subtly-trembling monster hovering above him. "And just _when_ did this happen?"

"Six days ago, My lord," he said softly. His eyes widened at the anger quickly becoming apparent on the antichrist's face. "Your father ordered me to keep it quiet for a while," he hurriedly explained. "I had every intention of coming to you right after the fact, Master Damien."

Damien rolled his eyes. Of _course_ his father would have his cloven feet in this. "Consider yourself lucky that my father ordered you," he said sharply. "However, any more reports are to come to _me_ first, am I understood?"

He nodded briskly, yellow eyes beaming with a worried clarity. "Perfectly, My lord."

Damien merely gave him a curt nod before sinking down into the ground without another word, wading his way through the portal of time and space. He crossed his arms as he waited his journey out, lips crawling into an evil smile. As stubborn as the man was, Damien had him now. Kyle was _his_.

He popped up through the ground in front of Kyle's prison, briskly walking to the doorway and raising his brow at the sight inside. Kyle was weakly fluttering his lashes, breath shaking and lying on the ground limply as a blonde watched him brokenheartedly, Valefor nuzzled up against his side. Damien cleared his throat, Pip and Valefor looking at him in shock. The dog automatically placed himself in front of the redhead, baring his teeth and snarling. Damien rolled his eyes, looking at the blonde. "And just _who_ are you?"

"P-Pip, Sir," he mumbled nervously. "I-I found Kyle and...and brought him back here and..." he trailed off as Damien raised his brow. He slid his eyes over to Kyle, who was looking back at him, pupils pinpoints in fright. He couldn't help the smug grin. Kyle knew _exactly_ what was happening.

A weak hand slid up, grasping Pip's shirt. "Don't...let...h-him..." he was nearly seizing as his body began a new wave of shakes, claws tearing through the seams of Pip's clothing.

Pip looked between the two of them, focusing on Damien's grin and feeling his chest tighten. This was about to get bad, that much was very clear. "Please," Pip pleaded softly, reaching back and grasping Kyle's wrist to try to calm the redhead. "He's hurt, My lord. He needs rest," he insisted over Valefor's growls.

Damien chuckled in that grating tone yet again that sent a chill down both Kyle and Pip's spines. "How _cute_ ," he jeered. "Little mouse protected by another mouse and a puppy. Poor little one," he clucked his tongue in disappointment. He stepped back out of the prison and moved to the side, folding his finger nonchalantly. The demon watched with a wild grin as Pip and Valefor were grabbed in a gust of power and tossed out of the doorway a good fifty yards from the entrance. Valefor shook off his shock and took off full speed back towards them, Damien calmly walking into the prison and raising his hand, the broken door flying back into place. He never let his eyes break from Kyle's horrified stare as Valefor barked ferociously, massive claws scratching angrily against the metal. Damien murmured a spell to seal it in place with a barrier, dropping his arm and taking a small step towards the fallen man.

Kyle gulped, rallying the remaining strength he had and getting up onto the sides of his legs, staring at him with wide eyes. "Don't. Touch. Me," he breathed out slowly and as firmly as he could manage.

Damien smirked, "Heard you took out a wave of mortals, Little mouse," he cooed. "I'm proud."

"Stay _away_ ," he demanded, backing up against the wall and biting his lip, hearing Pip yelling for him worriedly outside under Valefor's noise.

Damien kneeled down, jerking his hand towards him and watching Kyle slide along the stone into his waiting fingers, feeling his jaw trembling out of control and licking his fangs. "Such a _strong_ little mouse," he murmured, a slight admiration in his tone. "Tell me, how did it feel when you neared that peak, hm?" he cocked a brow, Kyle staying silent as his weary mind tried to find his way out of this mess. "I bet the pain stopped. I bet you felt like you could take on the _world_ ," he hissed, bringing him up towards his face, noses nearly touching. "How did it feel, Little one? To feel yourself giving in to _me_?"

"Stop," he protested weakly, jerking back only to be grabbed again. His clawed fingers raised, scratching listlessly at Damien's arm as the grip tightened around his chin. He hurt too much to deal with this, his options were so _low_. "What do you _want?"_ he rasped.

Damien's eyes went half-lidded, relishing in the feeling of Kyle still fighting, despite how he could _feel_ the pain the redhead was going through. It had to be excruciating, had to be eating away at every single nerve. His power wanted in, his blood wanted full control. The little blonde mortal outside the door no doubt restored some of his faith, tried to bring Kyle's mortal conscious back to itself. He would just have to fix that. " _You,_ " he growled in answer. The calm veracity of the words sunk straight into Kyle's bones, his body alit with a new wave fear as he tried to back out of the hold. He yelped as Damien shoved him onto his back, coming overtop of him and pinning him against the stone.

Kyle's body went into a blind hysteria, claws slashing up at the demon, eyes glowing with defiance and embers. Damien grunted as a wave of power smacked into him, holding down onto Kyle's arms and keeping himself steady. Kyle whimpered, knowing well enough that his power had burst through. Why wasn't it _working?_

Damien could see the confusion swimming in polychromatic eyes and chuckled. He hissed as Kyle's claws finally made contact, slicing through his shirt and leaving four long gashes down the width of his chest. "Naughty naughty mouse," he taunted, seemingly unfazed. "He doesn't know when the cat's been holding back," he raised his brow. Kyle's eyes widened, trying to kick at the legs straddling his hips. His voice was caught in his throat, an overwhelming realization of the reality being handed to him smacking into him all at once.

"Don't," he whispered as Damien grabbed his forearms, pinning them down over his head. He groaned as claws dug into his infected wound, squirming around as best as he could manage in his unhinged state. Damien's eyes scanned over him hungrily, the redhead a repast lied out for his own pleasure. He wasn't about to not indulge in the vast array of tastes. He leaned down, taking a deep breath at Kyle's neck, feeling him trying to close off his access. He chuckled, breath ghosting over the pale, lightly freckled shoulder jerking around for some stance, skin folded like silk sheets from Kyle's positioning. Kyle's yelp rebounded sharply in his ear as he dragged his tongue over the sweated flesh, the taste of salt and musk emanating off the redhead's body like a deadly intoxication; Damien's own brand of drug he'd created, molded, _craved_.

He bit down almost angrily into the skin, becoming over-enthused at the possibilities. Kyle arched up with a scream, shaking his head around wildly, trying to rally his power, but each little burst doing little more than making Damien sink his fangs and claws further into his muscle tissue. _"No, no, no, no,"_ he gasped out brokenly, kicking his legs furiously from under Damien's hips, eyes squeezing shut as pure nausea overtook every other feeling. "God, please, no," he begged, mouth falling open in a long cry as Damien's long canines slid out of his skin, the demon lapping fallen blood ardently.

He leaned back up over the man, grinning smugly. "God?" he repeated. "Little mouse, if God _truly_ cared, He would have came and saved you already. Him or that blonde fool of yours."

"Kenny will fucking skin you alive," he said shakily, fists weakly flexing under Damien's ironclad grip.

Damien rolled his eyes, releasing his arms and watching as Kyle tried again to scratch his way out, power fluctuating too much to do more than mildly irritate him. He wrapped a hand through luscious curls, tightening his claws within them. He ripped Kyle's head up, his neck arching gracefully towards his rapacious stare. "He won't do anything to me, not with such a pretty little doll at my side," he purred, reaching his freehand back and slamming it against Kyle's scar. The redhead whimpered as veins began their routine tearing, Damien leading them through his skin to the front of his body and playing them lightly in his fingers like harp strings.

The noirette moved off of his hips, flexing his fingers and forcing Kyle to sit himself up, the man choking on panicked sobs as Damien turned him around onto his knees, his back facing those greedy red eyes. The demon's cock twitched at the sight of blood running down his flesh, Kyle trembling on his knees for him and _only_ for him. He grinned, wondering if once he destroyed Heaven, it'd be such a rush of victory, of yearning for even _more_.

He tested a few strands, plucking them and listening to Kyle's yelps hungrily. He found his targets and separated them from the group. He held his arm up towards the ceiling, observing eagerly as they shot up, wrapping into crevices of stone and securing themselves. Kyle screamed in pain and panic as his wrists were jerked up and snapped together, the lodes within them tearing out of the flesh, stopping at the heels of his palms. Damien relinquished the remainder of his veins, staring as Kyle's body slouched, back arched into a beautiful, balletic curve as his wrists kept him upright.

Kyle's breath picked up the pace, glowing eyes flittering, ripping rocks out of the wall and sending them soaring towards Damien in a frenzy. Damien merely flickered his eyes at the projectiles, sending them falling to the ground as he ran a curious hand up Kyle's bowed spine, claws bumping along the vertebrae. "STOP!" Kyle screamed, tears spilling down his burning cheeks, head dropping down as he thrust himself about, stopped short by the vessels running up his arms. The entirety of his forearms were coated with a shiny, horrifying sheen of blood, trickling down the angle and cascading down his sides.

"You're not in any position to be calling the shots, Little mouse," he half-murmured, too lost in his wanderings to do much else. His free hand drifted to his jeans, undoing his button and feeling his cock nearly bursting from its confinement. _"Inlitus,"_ he said hungrily, hand beginning to seep with a thick, clear glob of substance. He slowly wrapped his palm around himself, shuddering with the contact, rearing to go already. This was almost _too_ much. So much control over this one little mortal was driving him absolutely mad. But he wanted it. He wanted every single bit of what he could take, and Damien was never one for passing up opportunities.

"Let...me... **GO**!" Kyle screamed, body flying into absolute turmoil as Damien's wandering hand drifted to his loose pantline. His feet kicked, his torso swinging around wildly. The blood loss could barely be detected as pure adrenaline took over. He shook his head in his mania, sobs breaking through this throat and prayers for Kenny being screamed as Damien ripped down his blood-soaked jeans and boxers, eyes gleaming at his prize.

He chuckled casually, reaching forward and grabbing a cheek of Kyle's ass, sinking his claws into the supple flesh just to hear him screech. "This must be why McCormick stays with you," he smirked.

Kyle winced, trying to weigh his body down, get his veins to tear so he could run to Pip and Valefor trying so desperately to get to him. A sharp slap of his ass made him go rigid, Damien's body heat moving behind him. A clawed hand began moving up and down his bloodied waist and hip, his breath once more unable to pour through his throat. He didn't even have the option for much longer as that damnable hand slid up and clasped around his neck, Damien leaning up beside his ear. Kyle whimpered as hard, hot skin shallowly ground against his ass, everything happening far too fast for the redhead to be able to keep up with.

Damien grinned slyly, forked tongue swiping along the back of Kyle's ear and watching him attempting to cringe. "Tell me," he whispered hotly, free hand grabbing at Kyle's ass, pulling the skin to let his rutting hit closer to home. "Is the apartment still clear of fire? Or have I burned it straight to the ground?"

Kyle's eyes shot open wide, the familiar phrasing twisting his stomach past the limits of what he thought possible. "How...how..." he began to hyperventilate, rasping under Damien's grip.

"Thought I didn't watch you, Little one?" he cooed, pulling him straighter against his back, leaning his chin on his bleeding shoulder. He grasped his cock and moved it over Kyle's hole, slowly stroking up and down his target, relishing in Kyle's body twitching in fear around him. "And you think you're not a demon," he grinned, locking himself into position and biting his ear. "What kind of mortal kills an angel?" he hissed, grabbing Kyle's hip and bucking his cock up to spear his hole. The assault got Kyle moving again, his unprepared body falling through shock waves at the scorching agony.

He whined, trying to move his legs, mind overrun with the information presented to him. Damien wrapped his arm around his waist, forcing Kyle's body to drop onto his cock time and again, entire body coursing with what he was doing. This was a victory in _every_ sense of the word. His being was teeming with a pure euphoria, the warmth of his pride only overshadowed by the tight heat clenched beautifully around his cock.

Kyle couldn't cry. He couldn't scream. He couldn't do a _damn thing_ as he was limply led along the hot skin. He was in complete shock, his body unable to comprehend just what it was that was happening to him, too much pain to sort out at once. And Nathaneal was dead. He was dead because of him, because he just _had_ to get a _stupid_ message to Kenny. Tears finally rolled down his cheeks without his preemptive, hoping to _God_ that Kenny wouldn't see him like this; strung up and being fucked by the enemy.

Damien grinned wildly at the liquid trailing down his cheeks, his grip around his throat tightening, listening to Kyle struggling for a breath as he pulsed his hips against him. _"Good boy_ ," he taunted, watching the stream pick up its pace. He groaned under his breath as Kyle's muscles tightened around him, the thick lubrication around his cock letting him slip in and out of the redhead's ass like it was made for him. He indulged in a sick grin. Then again, who was to say it _wasn't_?

He redirected his hand up, shoving two fingers into Kyle's mouth, relishing in the resulting cry. His claws dug into his tongue, cutting into the muscle and Kyle listlessly shook his head. His fangs sunk into the digits, trying to ward them out. "Good boy," he hissed. " _Fight_."

The word kicked Kyle's body into motion, trying to do just that. He ground his fangs together around Damien's fingers, the man thrusting into him too entranced with the show to so much as wince at the attack. Kyle's mind was on the brink, everything trying to focus on what to fight off; The fingers, the burning, his veins, the cock. He screamed in frustration, unable to find his fixation as Damien's fingers tore out of his mouth, the bloodied hand slapping him across the face.

"Stop," he begged, barely able to make the sound come out as his head lolled listlessly to the side from the hit. He shut his eyes, groaning as his body decided to focus on Damien's dick slamming into him, the sound of their skin echoing sickeningly around his prison. His legs twitched, trying to find some stance and kick back before Damien moved his injured hand down, digging his claws into Kyle's stomach, the redhead letting out a long-winded sob.

Damien panted, flipping thick bangs out of his eyes, unable to resist watching the tensing of Kyle's subtle muscle, the way his body was laid out for him, open to do with as he pleased. "Look at you," he sneered, hitting into him hard enough for Kyle to scream, shuddering at the noise. "You'll let me take you in _any_ way, won't you?" he nipped the back of Kyle's neck. "Body, mind, soul, all of it's _mine_ and you know it."

"No, no, no, no," Kyle repeated, shaking his head and letting it fall back as Damien kicked his legs to open wider for him, groaning in anguish and humiliation. "Please...please stop," he whispered, glassy eyes slipping shut, the right throbbing, trying to keep him conscious as he felt himself trying to pass out from the influx of madness coursing through him.

"May as well accept it, Little mouse," he purred through his labored breathing. "After all, McCormick won't want anything to do with a _murderer_ ," he bit.

Mottled eyes shot open, coming alive with fire all at once. He let out a large scream, Damien watching excitedly as his veins snapped from the ceiling and Kyle collapsed forward, hips held up by Damien, splayed out indecently for the antichrist to continue to pound into.

Kyle shot his head back around, fury replacing agony, and trying to scramble away from the assault. "Oh no you don't," Damien purred, pulling out of him and nearly losing his breath at losing the blazing pull all at once. He quickly flipped the man onto his back, watching amusedly as Kyle began lashing out yet again, fangs bared and his entire body screaming his intentions loud and clear.

Damien merely pointed, eyes glowing once more. Kyle ignored it, trying to lean up from his hold and slash his face open before his wrist veins came alive once more, snapping them together and tying around the bloodied skin, the remainder of the strands wrapping tightly around his throat. Kyle's eyes bulged, trying to pull from the hold, the vessels cutting off his air more effectively with each millimeter he tried to stretch out. He whimpered as Damien leaned back overtop of him, ripping his jeans and boxers fully off his legs and spreading them.

With nothing but a victorious grin set upon his face, Kyle could read every word: He wasn't going to win this one. He cried out as hands lifted his thighs, his body curling in as his knees were pushed back towards his shoulders. He screamed as Damien's cock pushed in past his torn ring of muscle once more, head lolling in disorientation as he slid back and forth on the floor.

Damien was right on the brink, seeing Kyle slumping defeatedly _beyond_ how delectable he'd truly imagined it to be. Small, breathy cries escaped the captive throat, but nothing more. No arguing, no smartassed remarks. Nothing but _acceptance_. Damien was no fool, he knew it was on account of pain and pain alone, but damn it all if it still wasn't perhaps the greatest accomplishment he'd garnered in his lifetime.

"Good little mouse," he cooed, licking sweat from his upper lip. "Shit," he moaned, toppling over all too soon, a string of disappointment following right alongside the pure cacophony of triumph ringing through his skin. Kyle lurched up uncomfortably, teeth gritted as Damien's release shot into his ass, slick and hot. He choked down a mouthful of bile as the demon continued to thrust inside of his used form, getting every ounce of this victory that he possibly could out of the redhead. He finally stopped, unwillingly pulling his dripping cock out of the man and scanning up over his debauched form satisfactorily as he dropped his legs from his grip. His eyes finally landed on Kyle's face, stained with tears, lip trembling so prettily, those beautifully mismatched eyes seeming to see right through him.

"How does it feel?" he asked slyly, putting himself back into his jeans and leaning overtop of the captive. "Knowing you lost?"

Kyle took a deep, shaky breath, glossed vision glancing to see Damien's chest and fingers still bleeding from his own attacks. He shut his eyes and shook his head, feeling every ounce of burn redirecting once more into his chest, his body arching up as it seemed to snap within his lungs. Damien watched excitedly as Kyle writhed for a few moments, mouth falling agape before slipping back onto the ground, brow knitted.

A hand wormed under the back of his neck, pulling him up to sit straight in front of the noirette. Kyle struggled to fight against gravity and keep his bound wrists from strangling him, keeping his eyes closed before another hand cupped his chin. He looked up weakly as Damien drug a thumb over his parted lips. "I'm definitely keeping you for myself," he purred, Kyle's heart lurching at such a casual utterance. "Poor McCormick should have protected you better," he pouted a bit. "But look at you," he tugged the man closer, staring him down, the wolf finally snaring his lamb. "A true demon now," he murmured. "You'll kill that fool in no time at all...and get to sit beside me once I take over," he grinned.

Kyle remained silent, allowing the demon to jostle him around, keeping his focus on keeping his airway open.

Damien chuckled, lightly slapping his face. "I do hope you get your spiteful little tongue back," he taunted. "You're no fun when you're so quiet." He smirked at Kyle's blank expression, throwing him back onto the ground and watching his naked form curl up in silence. He rose to his feet, swiping a finger across his chest wound and grinning. "Such a strong little mouse," he echoed. "Just wait until you see what I'll have you do to McCormick," he raised his brow, turning on his heel and walking back towards the front of the room. He waved his hand, the barrier crashing down once again, Pip and Valefor leaping out of the way. Pip backed from him worriedly and Valefor continued to snarl. He shot them both a look and smirked, stealing one last glance back at the fallen redhead before nonchalantly continuing out into the open skies of Hell without another word.

Valefor bounded into the room, whining as he found Kyle staring blankly at the wall on his side. Pip came in and his face dropped, "Oh my, Kyle," he whimpered, hurrying inside and diving down beside of him. He glanced at his naked state and his jaw trembled. "Oh, _Kyle_ , are you all right? Please, what hurts?" he slowly sat the man up, struggling to undo the binding around his throat.

The redhead continued staring out the door after his attacker, body beginning to tense once again. A heady rage began swirling within his blood like never before, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits and a long, hot breath coming out of his nose. He could feel his claw marks, the bites, the cum leaking out of him onto the stone floor. Pip and Valefor pressed against him for a reaction, both of them staring as his lip slowly curled, a long fang beaming in the light.

" _Mine_ ," he snarled under his breath.

"What...what, Kyle?" Pip asked again, managing finally to undo the veins, watching in shock as they quickly slammed back into Kyle's body, healing along with all his markings right off the bat. Movement caught his eye and he looked to Kyle's left arm, eyes widening at the infected wound beginning to slowly but surely begin piecing itself back together.

Kyle's eyes flashed with color, Pip watching in horror as the door flew out of the room at breakneck speed, crashing and breaking to pieces far off in the distance. The redhead never let his eyes break from Damien's direction, fists clenching and a low growl sneaking through the tensive air, voice grating as though it belonged to another being, "That bastard is _mine_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: _Inlitus_ means lubrication because since 'Lilith' my staple is that Damien has a fucking lube spell. Hurray convenient writing!
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys!


	37. Sins of One's Brother

**See to it that no one comes short of the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springing up causes trouble, and by it many be defiled -** _**Hebrews 12:15** _

_Around him, there was nothing. That blank plane that he'd visited so many times throughout his life. He bit his lip, looking for that familiar light to guide him back home. He quirked his brow as he found none, pivoting on his foot and glancing around frantically. "Hello?" he called out, voice fading out into the void._

_His turning stopped, a shocked shriek passing through his lips as a figure formed but a few feet in front of him. He stumbled back, watching as the blackened creature suddenly began melting down into the nothingness beneath their feet, red curls popping out of the seeping tar. "K-Kyle?" he whimpered._

_Kyle smiled, letting the remaining sludge slither off of him and closing the distance, reaching up and grasping Kenny's hair, tugging him down to meet his lips. Kenny blinked before sinking into the loving heat, tongues lightly brushing against one another's in a sweet, supple dance. The familiar taste of mint toothpaste and coffee swirled into Kenny's mouth, his lashes practically fluttering at the intimate secret that only the two of them ever indulged in._

_The redhead pulled back for a breath, leaning forward and resting his head on Kenny's chest. Kenny's arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, nestling down into his hair. "Kyle, I don't know what to do," he whispered._

_The shorter was silent for a moment, nuzzling into Kenny's tshirt. "Just hold onto me," he whispered back. Kenny nodded frantically, a tear escaping his eye and running down into Kyle's curls. The redhead pulled back and looked up at him, that pitiable look from the last day they saw each other clearly splayed across his face. He raised his hand and wiped his thumb across Kenny's lashes. "Don't cry," he said quietly. "I'm okay."_

" _No, you're_ _ **not**_ _," he insisted._

_He gave him a crooked smile and shook his head, "I'm okay," he repeated. They both flinched and looked up, fluttering white and black feathers flittering down around them like snowfall._

_Kenny took a deep breath, nose scrunching as vanes tickled his nostrils upon an inhale. Kyle chuckled lightly, brushing some strays off the blonde's shoulder. Blue eyes fell onto the small redhead, glimmering fondly. "I'm sorry," he murmured, stroking his temple with his thumb._

_Kyle turned his head, kissing his hand lightly. "Don't be. I'm fine," he assured him. "You just need to hold on."_

" _Kyle, you didn't have another option. I ain't lettin' you go." he smirked sadly._

_The man looked at him, a serious glint flashing over stoney jade eyes. "You_ _**need** _ _to."_

_He blinked, "I...I thought-"_

_Kyle's hands reached up and grasped his shoulders, fingers digging in desperately. "Do_ _**not** _ _let go."_

_He narrowed his eyes, "Let go or not? Which is it?"_

" _Both," he hissed, shaking him firmly. Kenny gaped at him, completely lost as the feathers around them picked up speed, slapping against their arms and slithering through their hair._

" _I don't understa-" he paused as a booming voice breeched the air, the entire void beginning to toss and shift._

" _Ken," the voice called. He narrowed his eyes in recognition. "Ken, wake_ _ **up**_ _!" the voice insisted urgently._

_His eyes widened as Kyle slipped through his fingers down into the nothingness, the feathers dropping with deadweight around him._

He groaned, shifting and opening his eyes blearily to find Gabriel looming over him shaking him urgently. "What, Gabe?" he asked sleepily, letting out a long yawn. He sat up in his bed, shaking the sleep out of his eyes.

"Damien attacked him," he said worriedly.

The drowsiness disappeared instantaneously. "WHAT?!" he screamed, hopping off his bed and tripping onto the floor. He scrambled up and burst out of his door, leaping down stairs with Gabriel hot on his trail as they sped towards the congregation room. "When did it happen?!" he demanded, bounding past worrisome guards without a second glance.

"I-I don't know," he replied honestly. "God called us all in and told us and I ran up to get you."

Kenny gulped, tears beading his bloodshot eyes. Every possible scenario played out before him, stomach curling uneasily into painful cramps. He bit his lip as they made it down the fourth flight of steps and up to the open door of the congregation, Kenny speeding in and leaving Gabriel to swiftly close it behind. Kenny didn't stop his running, shoving Uriel out of his way to stand next to God and panting. "What...happened...?" he gulped down a pained breath.

The deity solemnly pointed to His vision, Kenny's heart dropping instantly at the sight of Kyle, bloodied and naked, eyes blankly focused on the outside world. " _Oh no_ ," he whispered, legs buckling and falling back, Raphael catching him and leaning him against the table.

"Ken...it's okay..." the brunette worked out, knowing full and well that this situation was the furthest thing from okay.

Kenny couldn't even hear his foolish statement, heart pounding madly in his chest like timpani barraging his eardrums. He watched as Valefor licked Kyle's arm, nudging against him urgently. He raised his brow at a slim blonde next to him, trying to coax him to move. _"Kyle, Kyle come on,"_ he insisted.

"Who the fuck is that?" he whispered, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

"Pip Pirrup," God answered quietly, Kenny jolting back a bit at the familiar name. "He found Kyle and he's been trying to help him the last week...And he needs it more than ever right now," He sighed.

Kenny's ears perked at Kyle's voice, breath hitching at the unfamiliar monotony within the tone. _"Outside,"_ the man mumbled, fingers fumbling to grab at his discarded clothes and hold them over his exposed front, genially getting onto his feet on shaking legs. Pip stood beside him, following with a concerned expression and looking on the brink of tears from Kyle's plight. The redhead, on the other hand, looked like a living mannequin, barely blinking, barely breathing. He slowly made his way towards the pond, Valefor keeping at his side and prepared to help if the man should stumble.

"This isn't right," Kenny whispered, eyes burning. "That's not _him_."

"Of course it is," Gabriel intervened. "He's just...upset," he winced.

The blonde shook his head, "He's too tense. He's not screaming or losing his temper...this isn't _right_ ," he repeated, heart shattering in his chest. He watched helplessly as Kyle dropped his tattered clothing to the side, a quick scan of his body showing blood and cum running down his inner thighs. He choked out a sob, clasping his hand over his mouth and trying not to absolutely lose his mind. His arm crossed over his stomach, trying to lessen the horrific pains starting anew.

Kyle robotically lowered himself down, sliding himself into the pond and sitting on a slight incline into the water. Slowly, he let himself sink up to his shoulders, closing his eyes and letting his blood brought by Damien's fangs wash away in the small, ebbing tide. He leaned back, resting his head on a stone on the shore of the pond, feeling Valefor lie down next to him, his heavy breath washing over his exhausted form.

Pip cleared his throat, _"K-Kyle?"_

" _Yes?"_ he replied in a deadpanned whisper, Kenny able to _hear_ just how much damage Damien had caused.

" _Would you like me to find you some better clothes?"_ he offered softly.

Kyle glanced at him and raised his brow, _"What? Is there a lost and found?"_

He shook his head, _"In the second layer they discard clothes. I can perhaps grab something before they incinerate the next bunch."_

Kyle blinked, nodding softly, _"That'd be great. Thanks."_ Pip smiled reassuringly, reaching out and squeezing the man's shoulder before hopping to his feet and quickly heading away. _"Pip?"_ Kyle called after him.

" _Yes?"_ he turned back and cocked his head.

He reached out of the water, pushing Valefor's head lightly. _"Take Valefor. If anyone asks, I told you to take care of him."_ He looked at the dog and patted his head. _"Go,"_ he ordered softly.

Valefor licked his nose before hopping up and heading up to beside the blonde, both of them turning and walking off to make way to the second layer. Kyle watched after them for a bit before letting out a long breath, turning back to face the front out into the water, eyes dimly glazed over.

Kenny watched, absolutely torn asunder. "Why isn't he reacting?" he whispered. "Why isn't he doing _anything_?"

"Have you ever seen Kyle in a traumatic experience before?" Jegudiel asked quietly.

"Yeah. Usually he goes 'Jesus Christ, Dude' and launches into a way to solve the problem," he bit his lip.

"But...were those experiences done to him or to someone else?"

He paused, a tear sliding down his cheek as he watched his silent lover sitting stoically in the water. "Never to him...not like this," he murmured.

"Then...this is how he must handle it," Jesus said softly.

"But what if...what if...this is how _Damien_ handles a problem?" he began breathing out of control, Raphael soothingly rubbing over his back. "What if it's not _him_ but that fucking red eyed fuck instead?!" he twisted his fingers in his hair and tugged viciously, teeth grating against each other.

"Damien would not have sent a mortal out with a protector," God said gently, touching his arm. "Kyle's still in there...just...struggling."

They looked up as Kyle raised an arm out of the water, red eyes scanning listlessly over the webbing scars settled on his flesh. He closed his eyes again, feeling Damien's evidence washing away and swallowing a heavy breath. He jerked a bit, eyes scrunching almost painfully. Kenny's lip trembled as a quiet sob finally snaked its way out of the redhead despite his best efforts to conceal it.

Kyle's arms hugged himself, slowly sinking himself down into the water and submerging himself. Kenny whimpered as he stayed beneath the surface for a good fifty seconds before bursting back up, gasping for air. He coughed, running his clawed hands through his hair and nodding to himself briskly, hiding his face in his hands. Kenny leaned forward to hear better as he muttered into his palms, _"You're alive. You're alive. Breathe._ _ **Breathe**_ _."_ he demanded himself, shoulders heaving in broken cries.

"Please let me go get him," he begged with a cracking voice, knowing it was absolutely fruitless, but needing to hear it for himself.

"Kenneth...you know we can't," Michael said with a gentle edge to his tone, even himself feeling guilt weighing down from the cold, hard truth of the matter.

The group watched the little broken man in silence, the only sound echoing around the room being Kyle's distant, subdued sobs. A soft, desperate plea broke through: _"Kenny...help...please..."_

Tears began rolling down Ken's cheeks in full force, entire body quaking as he curled into himself, falling onto his knees on the floor. Raphael grimaced, kneeling beside him and moving to let Kenny hide his face in his shoulder. "It's all right," he murmured, patting his back softly, the blonde unable to choke out the smallest of words, sobbing loudly against Raphael's tunic as the remainder watched him breaking apart.

"What's he doing?" Uriel's voice perked up through the somberness.

They all looked back at Kyle whose head shot over, seeing Gragor standing off in the distance watching him disinterestedly. _"What?!"_ Kyle spat, whirling around in the water.

Gragor smirked self-righteously, _"Heard you got put into your place."_

Kyle snarled, hopping out of the water and throwing his boxers back on, eyes gleaming with a pure hatred that Kenny had never seen coming from those gentle irises. _"Leave._ _ **Now.**_ _"_ he ordered.

"What is he doing?" Kenny echoed, getting back onto wobbling legs and staring intently at his small fiancé glaring at the behemoth a few yards from him.

" _And what makes you think I should?"_ he taunted.

" _I outrank you,"_ he spat. _"So do as I fucking say and get the fuck away from me before I_ _ **make**_ _you!"_ he screamed.

"He's losing his temper way too quick," Kenny noted, breath coming in short rasps. He knew Kyle too well to think this was normal. Kyle was quick to snap but never to threaten, not in this timeframe.

" _Make me?"_ he repeated amusedly, taking a few brave steps towards the frail redhead. Kyle tensed, claws digging into his palms as his sharp sight locked on target.

" _Last. Warning,"_ he sneered.

Gragor smirked, crossing his arms firmly. _"Or what? Gonna send your idiotic little boyfriend after me?"_ he egged on. Kyle growled, shoulders shaking and eyes sparking. _"Well, I guess he wouldn't help you anyway, would he? You're just another_ _ **demon**_ _,"_ he said smoothly.

Kyle's patience completely snapped, eyes striking the match. Gragor's jaw dropped along with the audience as Kyle leapt forward with incredible speed. His claws sprang forward, palms facing opposite directions as they dove through the golden plating of Gragor's throat. The redhead shouted angrily, fingers clenching within the muscle tissue and spreading his arms, ripping the demon's head clean off in one smooth movement and throwing it to the ground with a sickening thud. He pushed Gragor's still-standing body back onto the stone as well, watching it collapse satisfactorily.

"OH MY GOD!" Kenny screamed, backing up in fright as he watched Kyle's demeanor slip back into a calmed state, glaring down at his victim's body bleeding out. The redhead cracked his neck, seeming unfazed by the blood spatter coating his face and chest.

He spat on Gragor's decapitated head, watching as the corpse burst into a small flame and disappeared completely, sinking down into the stone ground. _"See you when you respawn, you shiny fuck,"_ he scoffed.

Kenny was nearly choking, clutching at his face in horror. "Oh my god. Oh my **god** ," he repeated over and over, fingers tangling in his hair.

"Uh oh," God murmured, blackened eyes wide and alert with the angels and Jesus surrounding Him. They watched as Kyle raised a blood-soaked hand, taking a small lick off his finger and tonguing over his lips. Kenny began to dry heave at the sight, his entire world spiraling around. This wasn't Kyle. This wasn't _his_ Kyle.

"What do we do?" Michael asked blankly, watching in rigid shock as Kyle nonchalantly made his way back to the water to scrub off the residue clinging to his body like rubies.

"I...I...don't know," God answered honestly. "I can't tell what side he's on."

"OUR SIDE, HE'S ON _OUR_ SIDE!" Kenny insisted, tearing at his hair. He couldn't let them think otherwise. Regardless of what he just saw, he couldn't let them have the notion that Kyle needed to be killed. He'd find a way to save him. There had to be _some_ way.

Uriel shook his head, "Kenneth, look at him!" he demanded, gesturing to Kyle silently cleaning himself off. "He's a fucking _demon_ and you need to-"

Kenny's eyes shifted on a dime and the heavenly beings around him felt his power surging in the room. He sneered, head snapping over to Uriel. Michael grabbed him and Barachiel from that side of the room as light exploded with a thunderous crack and quickly got the three of them out of the way. Glass shattered from the opposite wall, shards flying into the room and a large gust of wind knocking the lot behind the blonde over onto the floor.

"Kenny, stop!" Gabriel shouted, blocking his face from the barrage.

The blonde blinked and shook his head at the voice, rubbing his fading eyes as the light dissipated from around them. "Holy hell," Raphael gaped, staring past the blonde with the rest of them.

"What?" Kenny winced, turning to look and his face falling, the West wall leading outside completely destroyed. "Holy shit. Holy _shit_ I am so sorry," he gaped at them all. "I didn't mean to, I seriously didn't-"

"Stop," God held up His paw, nodding slowly at him. "You're fine. It's just...a wall," He shook His head in disbelief as everyone shakily got back to their feet.

"You two will destroy everyone if you fight," Michael murmured, looking between Kenny and God's vision still playing casually. He turned to Uriel, wincing as guiltily as Ken. "You're _lucky_ that didn't hit you," he lectured. "Kenny very well could have injured you to the point of being immobilized."

"I'm so sorry," Kenny whispered again, hiding his face in his hands. This was a disaster. Everything about this was just a complete catastrophe slipping through his fingers like sand. He peeked through his fingers back at Kyle, whose expression had fallen back blankly, diluted blood streaming down his body in pink droves. The blonde dropped his hands, straightening himself out and taking a long breath. "I'm not killing him," he stated.

Selaphiel frowned, "No one is telling you to."

"No, but most of you are giving me the look that says you think I'll have to," he snapped, eyes lingering on everyone but God, Raphael, Gabriel, and Selaphiel. He shook his head. "We're fucking half and half over his fucking _life_ ," he gestured to Kyle defeatedly. "He...he just killed _Gragor_ , not Pip, not the damn dog. Just one that's probably been after him since he got there," he winced.

"But so unprovoked, Kenneth?" Michael questioned.

He glared, everyone tensing to fly out of the way again. "How would _you_ fucking react after something like that?" he hissed. "I guess most people just fucking go about their days singing and picking fucking flowers, right?"

"I didn't say-"

"Shut the **fuck** up," he snapped, watching Michael's mouth slowly slip closed, the elder giving him a warning look. Kenny didn't care. He'd deal with the consequences later if he had to but _no one_ was going to stand in front of him and say how taking down Kyle was the only option. "I told you once and now I'll tell all of you fuckers," he gestured around. "No one touches him but _me_ , are we fucking clear?"

Everyone was silent for a few moments before Jegudiel cleared his throat. "And...if he takes you down?"

Kenny took a deep breath, flickering his eyes back to the redhead. "Then you're fucked. If Kyle can forget and kill me, he won't have an issue striking any of _you_ down," he muttered. He looked at God, whose eyes were swimming with pity. "Keep me updated, please," he asked softly. The deity nodded and Kenny turned on his heel, heading towards the broken wall and taking flight out of it, heading off to try to separate himself from the disaster at his feet.

"...Shit," Raphael finally broke the tensive silence, running his fingers through his brown hair. "What now?"

Michael took a deep breath, "We keep training. Like it or not, we have two Damiens to deal with now," he looked over at Kyle as he silently stood and walked back towards his prison.

"They're not the same," Selaphiel frowned. "Kenny's right: Kyle killed another _demon_."

"What, you think Damien wouldn't?" he narrowed his eyes. "Damien would kill anyone in his way, regardless of species."

"But he's _not_ Damien," Gabriel insisted.

Uriel stepped up, "Well it is his _blood_ flowing through his veins," he reminded them.

"But it's still _his_ soul," Raphael shot back. "Tattered or not, it's _still_ Kyle in there."

"Enough!" God snapped, all of them looking at Him in shock at the raised tone. He glanced at all of them in a shady, sweeping line. "Look," He said firmly, "This is _not_ up for discussion. Kenneth said you're not to touch him and that is the end of it."

Michael frowned, "But what if-"

He held up His paw, "If Kyle kills Kenneth, then you will decide from there. But you all know as well as I do that if you go for Kyle on the battlefield, Kenneth will easily destroy _you_ before you hit your target."

Jegudiel winced, "I don't think he'd kill _us_..."

He gestured to the destroyed wall, "Look. Look at what he did for a _comment_ ," He reminded them. "He is a mortal above all else and mortals are selfish in the end. He'll gladly throw himself or _you_ out the window if he can save Kyle."

Michael rubbed his temple, "So, basically, you're saying we're stuck with the worst kind of soldier."

"No, I'm saying you're _graced_ with the best kind of _leader_ ," God replied sharply. "He knows his goal and he's going to follow through with it any way he can. He's not going to _stop_ until Kyle's out of harm's way and Damien is open for attack." He paused, focusing solely on Uriel for a moment. "There is to be _no_ more talk of bringing Kyle down or calling him something other than Kyle, am _I clear?"_

Uriel nodded, eyes lingering on the destruction on the other side of the room and taking a long breath.

Michael shook his head, "Fine. I just hope Kenneth remembers what's actually important."

God flickered His eyes to Kyle sitting in his cell, knees curled up and hiding his face in crossed arms, back subtly convulsing with quiet cries. "I'm sure he will."


	38. Commanding the Unclean Spirit

**...Because he had often been bound with shackles and chains, and the chains had been torn apart by him and the shackles broken in pieces, and no one was strong enough to subdue him. -** _**Mark 5:4** _

He sat straight and alert against the wall behind him, ears perked for any sounds outside of Valefor and Pip quietly dozing beside him. His fingers absentmindedly twiddled with a loose string on the shirt Pip had managed to swipe for him. It was two sizes too big and ridiculously frumpy against his slender frame, but it was better than walking around goddamn half naked again.

The last few days had been... _interesting_ to say the least. Pushing a consistent barrage of flashbacks into the far corner of his mind, letting them play themselves out and trying not to hide from them but refusing to let them overwhelm his weary mind, he'd found a few things had definitely changed. His senses were at their height, able to smell fire from miles off if he could see it and focus on it. His right eye, while still occasionally losing itself, was sharper than before he'd been attacked in the first place, as was its counterpart. A sick part of him couldn't help but be just a little joyous that the days of those damn reading glasses were over.

Everything he touched felt as though he were experiencing it in a drug-induced trip, nerves overly sensitized. The feeling of Valefor's fur under his hand was almost completely new; Feeling each little ridge of keratin, the glossy oils of his guard coat slicking his fingertips. His entire _reality_ felt as surreal. Closing his eyes and focusing, he could hear the faint _thump thump thump_ of Pip's deadened heart beating away in his chest.

Kyle sighed, looking down at his denim-clad legs and blinking slowly. He felt so off, but he felt so _alive_. The entire experience was exhausting. He wasn't sure just how to handle it all, this was far outside any inner turmoil he'd dealt with in the past. Worse than struggling through suicidal thoughts when he was fifteen, worse than coming to grips with his sexuality, worse than falling in and out of faith over and over again. Given Kenny had made the latter pretty clear as to the existence of God, but that never seemed to stop his doubts. After all, what god would let _this_ happen? He looked at his claws, brimming quietly with anxiety.

He _ripped off a head_. He still couldn't believe it. Gragor was huge, his head probably weighing as goddamn much as Kyle's entire body, and he tore it off like paper. Given, he wasn't overly upset at _who_ the victim was; He certainly wasn't Gragor's biggest fan. But just the fact that there _was_ a victim. He hadn't told Pip, knowing that the fragile blonde would probably fall to pieces and break his back trying to convince Kyle that he probably did what was right. He didn't want someone to tell him that, he needed to figure out where he stood for himself. He glanced over at the two innocently slumbering and twisted his mouth. When he saw Gragor, all he _wanted_ was to kill him. The fact that he'd managed to work out a warning had stunned him, even in the heat of the moment. Was it just his hatred of the creature? The fact that he'd been one of the ones to revel in keeping him hostage? Was it the taunting?

Kyle just couldn't figure it out. It certainly wasn't just _seeing_ someone that made him snap. Pip and Valefor hadn't left his side and he was completely fine with the two of them, even if he _was_ just a tad annoyed at their constant vigilance. But that just proved enough to Kyle that this wasn't a fluke. Gragor didn't just show up at the wrong place at the wrong time. Something inside of Kyle wanted revenge against him in particular and he damn well got it.

He sighed tiredly, running his claws through his hair and softly beating his head back against his wall. He had a sudden urge to make a damn list as he had so often back home. He needed to straighten out his thoughts, get his emotions pushed through a pen onto a stock yellow legal pad. He needed to plaster sticky notes on his wall in order of complexity, run through each discrepancy dwelling in his mind. First on that list, however, he unfortunately knew he couldn't run away from, much as a part of him wanted to.

"Kyle?" Pip spoke up. Kyle shot his head over and blinked at the concerned blonde as he sat up off of Valefor. "Are you quite all right?"

He shrugged, "I guess. I don't know. I'm just...confused," he admitted.

"About what?" he questioned quietly, scooting over and sitting next to him. Valefor woke at their voices, turning and resting his head on Kyle's leg, wagging his tail as he reached to scratch behind his ear.

"Everything," he said exhaustedly. "It's like I'm going through fucking puberty all over again but my mom can't buy me a book about it this time around," he rolled his eyes. Pip chuckled lightly and the redhead took a deep breath. "So much has happened the last few months, ya know?" he murmured. "I keep hoping I'll wake up and be back in my bed sleeping next to Kenny...But, I guess that's just stupid."

Pip's small smile faded, replaced almost immediately with a scolding frown. "Kyle, it is not stupid," he said curtly, Kyle blinking at him in surprise. "You're upset, you're going to feel like this. There's nothing wrong with that."

Kyle sighed, pushing himself back against the wall and staring out his doorway. "I wish I was like him," he confessed softly.

The blonde cocked his head, "How so?"

He smiled sadly, "Kenny's entire _life_ has been trauma. He's been killed so many times, ya know? He could be completely dismembered one day and then come home the next just asking what's for dinner..." his face slipped into a frown. "Why can't _I_ just do that? Just...fucking deal with it. Forget about it and move right on."

"Because Kenny's deaths are a routine," he reminded him. "And...he wasn't _always_ like that, you know," he winced. Kyle looked at him confusedly and he shrugged. "A lot of times, especially when we were younger, he'd come into Hell looking so very upset," he pouted. "He'd tell a demon how he died, how it interrupted a birthday party or something of the sort," he waved his hand dismissively. "He cried quite often," Pip shrugged awkwardly.

"Kenny cried?" he repeated. "I mean, I've seen him cry plenty, don't get me wrong," he defended. "But about... _this_?" he gestured around.

Pip nodded. "I imagine it took quite some time for him to accept what was happening to him," he noted softly. "I'm sure that the first time _he_ died, he felt like you do now," he winced.

"Yeah, well, that was... _death_ ," he emphasized. "A little more prominently scarring, dontcha think?"

Pip took a deep breath. "Whenever Kenny was dismembered, he'd regrow his limbs and get to start over...You don't get that option," he reminded him softly. Kyle froze at the bluntness, the truth settling on him uneasily. He looked back out towards Hell, thumb stroking methodically over Valefor's ear, focusing on the ridges riding his thumbprint. "But...unlike Kenny, you came out of this with more," he offered.

"Excuse me?" he questioned dryly, shooting him a quirked brow; A warning to tread carefully.

Pip gulped, "Please, don't think that I believe what happened is a good thing," he hurriedly assured him. "But...you said it yourself: You're stronger than before. Maybe...maybe it can help you work past this knowing that," he shrugged with a wince.

Kyle nearly scoffed before pausing, looking back into the light and his eyes widening. His keen mind whirred in thought over Pip's statement as he tongued over his lips. "Maybe I can do something else, too," he murmured, gently pushing Valefor off his lap and hopping to his feet, quickly heading outside. Pip and Valefor scrambled to get up and follow after him, finding him standing in the barren wasteland stretching out before them.

"Kyle? What's the matter?" Pip asked concernedly.

Red and green swept across the landscape, settling on his target in the East. Kyle furrowed his brow, honing in on the energy he could feel in the distance and narrowing his eyes. _'I know you can hear me, you fuck,'_ he thought spitefully. _'Come the fuck here.'_

"Kyle?" Pip asked again, looking in the direction Kyle was staring off towards. He couldn't see anything but broken trees and the orange sky. He cocked his brow. "Kyle what on Earth are you staring at-" he stopped short as movement caught his eye in his peripheral, both of them turning to look at the swirling blackened portal opening on the ground. "Oh dear," he said worriedly, grabbing Kyle's arm and trying to get him to run. The redhead stayed firm, watching as Damien broke through the surface, eyes locked in the man's and a sly grin over his face.

"Well, guess you're taking to the idea of my owning you better than I thought. I'm almost disappointed, Little mouse," he cooed.

Kyle put a hand on Valefor's head to calm his barking. "Sit, stay," he said simply, feeling the dog hesitantly doing so, itching to break forward.

"Were you so lonely without me already, Little one?" he taunted. "I _sent_ Gragor to keep you company, but you apparently weren't up to entertaining then," he smirked.

"Gragor?" Pip repeated confusedly, glancing at Kyle who stayed perfectly still, eyes locked on the noirette.

They both ignored the mortal, staring each other down. Kyle's muscles were rigid, mind trying to throw him into a panicked, miserable frenzy but refusing to allow it. Damien continued, "And to what do I owe the pleasure of you calling? I'm a very busy man, so please, tell me it's worth my time," he smirked, crossing his arms casually.

Kyle kept his face steady, Damien's nonchalant air faltering for but a moment at his expression. The demon blinked, slightly confused at the situation. He'd left Kyle in tears and broken on the floor mere days ago. Why wasn't he reacting to his presence? Calling him or not, Damien had dealt with mortals long enough to know _just_ how many ways they reacted when confronted with their tormenters. Standing tall was not one of them.

"Gragor got it easy," Kyle finally broke the silence, his voice strong and sharp, sliding off his tongue like turpentine.

Damien automatically fell back into his relaxed position. "Did he now?"

"You'll _wish_ I just tore off your head so quickly," he hissed.

He cocked his brow amusedly. Seems his mouse still wanted to play. He couldn't deny the idea was exhilarating, not quite wanting to lose everything about Kyle's defiance all at once. After all, the longer he wore him down, the more likely it was he'd _stay_ that way. "I'm simply _terrified_ ," he drawled. "And just what do you plan to do?"

He watched as Kyle's eyes flashed with color, quickly sensing the power approaching from behind him. He whirled around to find a large boulder heading for him with deadly, speeding precision. He smirked, holding out his hand and jerking it to the side, the boulder crashing back onto the Earth. He turned back, "You'll have to do more than-" He paused at Kyle not a foot away from him, rushing towards him with his claws bared. He raised his arm to block, missing and feeling Kyle's claws tearing down his face.

The demon hissed, temporarily blinded but reaching up and grabbing Kyle's throat, throwing him down onto the ground. Kyle fell onto his back, riding the momentum back onto his knees and pushing forward once again. Damien opened his eyes through the blackened blood cascading over his forehead and down his cheek, baring his fangs viciously. He pivoted out of the way of Kyle's assault, snapping his hand onto the back of his neck and slamming him down onto his stomach, placing a knee on his back and holding him steady. "Clever little mouse," he sneered, grabbing Kyle's flailing wrists and pinning them down above his head.

Kyle snarled, turning his head to the side and glancing up at Damien looming overtop of him, shuddering at the far-too recognizable angle. "Get off!" he screamed.

"There it is," he grinned maliciously, pushing down on him harder. Pip and Valefor started to quickly approach, stopped by a sharp glare from Kyle. The redhead looked back at his holder, wriggling around incessantly. "Familiar, isn't it?" Damien leaned down towards his ear, breathing wetly on his cheek. "Am I going to have to re-teach you just how much you're under me?"

"Stop!" he ordered, stuck under the strong hold and cursing incessantly as Damien increased the pressure on his back.

"I'm _impressed_ , Little one," he drawled, shaking a blood droplet from off his nose. "You're learning how to multitask so well. Accepting being a _monster_ so well."

He glared up at him fiercely. "I am _not_ a monster!" he screamed.

"No, I suppose not," he smirked, leaning closer down, lips brushing over his temple. "You're just my bitch," he growled, pushing down violently on Kyle's neck and smashing his face firmly against the ground. He got up off of him all at once and Kyle scrambled up, rubbing his numbed cheek as he backed away from the noirette.

Damien cooly wiped a smear of blood from off his lips and chuckled, rubbing the substance between his forefingers and thumb. "As much as I'd _love_ to stay and chat, I have a particular _angel_ to plan a funeral for," he smirked, watching Kyle's face fall darkly in amusement. "Perhaps next time you call, you'll have actual substance behind the message, hm?" he cocked his brow.

The group watched as he sank back through the ground, Pip hurrying over to Kyle's side and helping him back onto his feet. "Kyle, are you absolutely _mad_?!" he demanded, slapping his arm listlessly. "He could have killed you!"

Kyle looked at him, mindlessly rubbing his scraped cheek before his lips curled into a small smirk. "Maybe...but I can kill _him_ , too."

Pip blinked at him in surprise. "Were you not just there when he was tossing you about?" he asked bewilderedly.

Kyle raised his brow amusedly, the poison from his expression gone with the loss of Damien's presence. "Were _you_ not there when I scratched that fucker's face?"

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms stubbornly. "One scratch does not equal death, Kyle. I thought you were smarter than that."

He shook his head. "You weren't there for all the bullshit fights in high school, Pip. Fought _way_ more than I'm proud of."

"Good for you, you're a brute," he rolled his eyes again.

"Shut up and listen," he flicked his arm lightly. "Do you remember Cartman?"

He shuddered, "Unfortunately, yes."

"Well, our proportions changed even more as we got older," he started casually, petting Valefor's head. "He just kept getting bigger and I just kind of stayed like this," he gestured to his own lean form. "Bastard kept getting the upper hand on me because, well, he was fucking huge," he scoffed.

He raised his brow, looking almost impatient, "Okay..."

"But then, one day, I managed to get in my first hit," he smirked, triumphantly remembering the glorious crack of Cartman's nose under his fist. "From then on out, I knew I could win."

Pip pouted, "Kyle, I believe that Cartman is a tad different from the son of Satan, hm? I think that blow to the head might have knocked something loose."

"No," he wagged his finger in the air. "If you can hit them once, you can hit them again. If you can hit them again, that means you can _beat them_. I managed to get him twice when he was attacking me last time."

"And you only got him once here," he reminded him vehemently, not wanting to see Kyle choking on his own veins yet again from being stubborn.

"I only _needed_ the one hit," he said firmly. "If I could get him when I was weaker, then this shows I can get him even _worse_ now."

Pip huffed and slapped his arm again. "That's no reason to _invite_ him to attack you!"

He shrugged, "Look, I had to know as quickly as I possibly could, Pip. And I knew he was busy doing whatever he was doing out there," he gestured back to Damien's direction. "I knew he wouldn't stick around to hurt me."

The blonde stared at him, brown eyes glazing over worriedly. "Kyle, aren't you scared that he'll..." he trailed off awkwardly.

Kyle looked down at Valefor, still patting his head. "Terrified," he muttered. He straightened back up and looked at his counterpart determinedly. "But the fact of the matter is I'm _in_ this situation, and I can't spend the whole fucking time cowering in the corner waiting for him to come back for me."

"I didn't say that," he insisted. "But you're...you're jumping into the deep end!"

"Good thing I'm a great swimmer," he replied smartly, stepping off with Valefor. Pip blinked at him, hurrying to his side and staring at him with wide eyes. "How well do you know where everything is here?" Kyle asked.

"P-pretty well," he answered. "You're here for so long and the layout becomes fairly easy to remember," he chuckled awkwardly.

Kyle nodded, "Good. I don't have time to be stuck looking for things. We'll start in a few days when he's more distracted with whatever the fuck he's doing," he frowned.

He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes in bewilderment. "Start? What are you going to do?"

The redhead shrugged. "I'm going to do _exactly_ what Damien wants me to do." He looked over at the mortal, Pip catching a sharp, mischievous gleam in his red eyes. "I'm going to be the demon that he made me."


	39. Love the Brotherhood

**Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. -** _**James 1:2-3** _

Pairs of brown and grey eyes swept down listlessly over the arena, watching as Kenny and Jegudiel clashed against one another. Jegudiel shouted something about Kenny's footing, to which the blonde flipped him off and kicked his shin. _"Don't think my foot's so useless now, do ya?!"_ he snapped. Jegudiel rolled his eyes and slapped him over the head, prompting the blonde to whine and go back to trying to kick him like a child.

Michael rubbed his temple and shook his head tiredly. "Honestly, you'd think he would've graduated from kicking by this point."

Uriel scoffed, plopping down and swinging his foot over the edge of the balcony. "I'm not surprised. He doesn't seem to want to do _anything_ right."

The brunette quirked his lips a bit, exhaustedly following Kenny's movements as he swung Resurrection down atop Accolade time and again. "You're acting like he's still smacking his face with his sword."

The angel shrugged listlessly, scratching behind his ear. "I'm just saying that maybe we're putting our eggs in the wrong basket, that's all."

Michael sat down next to him and took a deep breath, "No. He's the right basket. He's just...human," he rolled his eyes.

Uriel cocked his brow, looking at the elder confusedly. "You harbor the same concerns I do, Michael: He's _too_ human. We never should have brought mortals into this war."

He shrugged, "Maybe. But that's not how it worked out. God said we needed Kenneth and I wasn't about to question His judgement...Though, now I'm wondering if even _He_ thinks He made the wrong decision."

The blonde scoffed. "Are you kidding? God loves him. _Everyone_ but you and I seem to adore him and think he's better than gold." He looked back down at Kenny leaping back from Jegudiel's assault and narrowed his eyes. "How in God's name did he manage to get everyone to pity him so much?"

"Redneck charm?" he shrugged.

"No, I mean..." he set his lips firmly and shook his head. "He's _one_ mortal. Fighting for a demon."

"Uriel..." Michael warned. "Remember what God instructed."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Look, I won't say that around Kenneth. Honestly, I'm sick of him attacking me when I'm on his damn side."

"Kenneth certainly doesn't think you are," he murmured.

He pouted, "I am on the side that keeps Heaven and Earth intact. Kenneth is on that side as well, he just seems to be honed in on this one element that has little bearing on anyone but himself."

Michael nodded softly in agreement. Half of their group seemed to think that that one element would be what led the young blonde into victory, the rest a bit more wary. Himself and Uriel, however, could both only see disaster spawning from the blonde's affections. "The others enjoy his company, I can't say that I know why," he rolled his eyes. The bumbling mortal had become almost unbearable to the archangel, wanting so badly for him to just take this responsibility seriously; To grow up and realize the world didn't revolve around himself. Michael bit his cheek. In some respects, perhaps that wasn't quite true. It _did_ revolve around him and his abilities. It was just a shame that Kenny instead decided to focus on Jupiter instead, turning his back to whom he was destined to save to instead hone in on a giant, unattainable force. The magnitude would crush him, burn him alive as it dragged him through the atmosphere down into the core.

Uriel shook his head, "Why are they _encouraging_ him? Even the ones closer to our side keep telling him to focus on that demon," he complained.

The brunette let out a long sigh. "Because they know telling him to do anything otherwise is fruitless at this point, especially considering what he's watched Kyle going through."

He rolled his eyes, "He didn't even _see_ the demon getting attacked."

Brown eyes swept over to him stonily. "Are you honestly going to sit there and tell me seeing the aftermath brought you _no_ pity, Uriel?"

The blonde shifted uncomfortably, "I didn't say that," he said quietly. "But these kinds of things happen to so _many_ peop-"

"Not by the antichrist," he interjected sharply. Uriel slowly closed his mouth and Michael shook his head. "No one else has been made into a weapon of war and been broken down like this, Uriel. You and I couldn't possibly understand what either one of them is going through."

Uriel frowned, "I don't have to understand to know that it holds little weight in the grand scheme of things."

"Unless it breaks Kenneth apart so much he gets struck down and we lose the war."

"Exactly!" he hissed. "We both know _exactly_ how this will go down, Michael: Kenneth will think he's ready to take down Damien, get one look of his demonic nuisance and freeze."

"Or go running at him with open arms," he murmured.

"Right," he nodded curtly. "This can only spell disaster for everyone. I think we need to keep Kenneth _far_ from Damien, keep him fighting off waves of demons, and _we_ take care of both of them."

Michael frowned, "First off, you _know_ he'd never let that fly. Second, you heard God, we're to let Kenneth handle the Kyle situation."

Uriel rolled his eyes, "Since when did a _demon_ become our tipping point?"

"Since the only fucking person who can beat Damien got involved with one," a voice behind them snapped. They turned and found Raphael and Selaphiel both glaring at them angrily. Selaphiel's green eyes bore into the both of them, "Are we forgetting how we're _not_ supposed to refer to Kyle like that anymore?" he directed down at the blonde.

Uriel twisted his face, "Kenneth can't hear me, calm down."

"How about _you_ start thinking before you speak?" Raphael shot back.

"Everyone hold it for a minute," Michael raised his hand. He got to his feet and looked between the three of them. "Fighting amongst each other isn't going to get us anywhere."

Selaphiel scoffed, "Then why are you two so fucking adamant about starting a war with Kenny?"

"Because _he's_ going to get us all killed!" Uriel sneered, hopping up beside Michael and standing firmly.

Raphael rolled his eyes, "Do you not hear yourself? Stop acting like his plan is to throw his sword down and run into Damien's fucking claws!"

"Well, _you_ sure as hell don't know his plans, so my guess is as good as yours," he hissed.

"ENOUGH!" Michael snapped, the three of them shooting their heads over towards him as he scratched furiously through his hair. "You three are acting like children!"

Selaphiel raised his brow, "Oh? And you're the mature, responsible adult among us? Because you're acting just as rash as this one," he gestured towards the fuming blonde.

His shoulders slumped tiredly, "Look, we _all_ want what's best for this situation, all right?"

"You want what's best for _you_ ," Raphael frowned.

Michael's eyes narrowed, "What's best for me is keeping Heaven and Earth as they should be, as it should be _your_ goal."

"And it _is_ ," he insisted. "But you two are acting like this is a black and white situation! It's not!"

"Life and death aren't black and white?" Uriel's face twisted in disgust.

Selaphiel set his lips firmly and walked to the edge of the arena, pointing down at Kenny shoving Jegudiel over. "You think _he_ thinks that?" he questioned. "He slips in and out of death so much you think that _he_ thinks it's certain? Hell, he changes it for _all of us_ ," he reminded him sharply. Uriel blinked, silent as he prattled on, "Get your fucking head out of your fucking ass, Uriel!" he snapped.

"Gabriel's the logical one out of all of us and even _he_ acknowledges that this isn't so easy," Raphael added lowly. "Why can't you two?"

Michael sighed irritably, "You realize that _Kenneth_ finds this situation black and white, right?"

Raphael frowned, "No. Because if he did, he would be refusing to fight unless we sent him down to Hell to try to get Kyle out. _That_ would be black and white. But instead, he's down there training for a battle he doesn't fucking want to happen because he _knows_ how important this is for everyone besides himself!" Michael paused, blinking slowly as the man shook his head. "I'd think you'd understand better than anyone, Michael." The elder looked off to the side, arms crossed firmly and bristling to himself.

"You two are holding us back," Selaphiel said darkly. "We can't fight as a fucking team if you're turned against our damn leader!"

"He's _not_ our leader," Uriel scoffed. "Michael is," he pointed to the angel beside him.

Michael shook his head slowly, "No. Kenneth was appointed as the leader by God. I can't exactly override that decision..." he trailed off and took a deep breath. His unit was falling apart from the inside out, and he knew damn well that he and Uriel were the ones fraying the seams. But damn it all if he couldn't help it, his mind overrun with worry of failure, of subjecting the entirety of humanity to unspeakable horrors for the rest of eternity. He leaned his head back, staring up at clouds sailing overhead. Things used to be so simple. Damien was fulfilling his wish even if he didn't realize it, tearing Heaven down from the inside out. He couldn't let this continue, _all_ hope would be lost if the archangels turned against one another time and again like they had been the last five months.

Uriel rolled his eyes. "And the fact that we have to trust our army to a simpleminded, demon lovin-FUCK!" he fell back onto the ground, holding his cheek and glaring up at Selaphiel, his fist still clenched.

"Knock it off," he warned dangerously, green glowing with a clear threat of more to come.

" _Hey! What's going on?"_ Kenny's voice shouted up. Selaphiel cleared his throat and stepped back beside Raphael again as Kenny and Jegudiel flew up beside them.

Jegudiel raised his brow, "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing important," Raphael muttered as Uriel slowly got back onto his feet, glaring daggers at Selaphiel and rubbing his jawline.

Kenny looked between Uriel and over to the opposing two, noticing Selaphiel shaking with adrenaline. "Sel, don't get me wrong, I've wanted to punch him since I got here, but what the hell was that for?...Given, I already have a fairly decent idea," he looked at the fellow blonde shadily who shot it right back.

Michael intervened their tensed moment as he cleared his throat, "We were discussing how Uriel is your next training partner." Uriel and Kenny both shot him a look of near-hatred at the notion and he shrugged. "Look, Kenneth's gone through everyone else but you and I, Uriel. It's time for you two to spar. You'll start tomorrow."

"I don't want to," Kenny said through clenched teeth.

"You don't have a choice," Michael replied thickly. "Uriel deals with fire, and that's something that's fairly prominent when it comes to Hell, Kenneth."

He rolled his eyes, "I can burn just fine on my own, thanks. I don't need-" he stopped as Raphael laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Train once with him, beat the shit out of him, and you'll never have to do it again," he smirked.

Uriel scowled, "Glad to know whose side you're on, Raphael."

He shrugged dismissively, "Stop being a prick and I'll come back to your side."

"Look, like it or not, we're on the same team," Jegudiel lectured. "We can't have any one squabbling on the battlefield. Get it out of your systems and go from there."

The blondes stared at each other for a tensive moment before Uriel rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Be here at noon," he said curtly, turning on his heel and taking flight from the group.

Kenny watched after him, grating the inside of his lip furiously. "I hate his fucking face," he muttered.

"Well, he's not fond of you, either," Michael sighed. "Keep training," he nodded.

Kenny took a deep breath. "Sorry. My mind's a little too 'black and white' right now," he growled, stepping forward and shoving past him, stomping his way away from the lot. Michael watched after him, slowly blinking and feeling a strand of guilt slivering through his chest.

"Michael," Raphael's voice caught his attention. Hazel eyes stared straight at him in a way that was almost intimidating to the stronger. "Fix this."

"How do you expect me to fix his emotional rampa-"

"You _know_ how," Selaphiel cut off bitterly. "Give him some space and then fix the fucking mess you've made."

He glared, " _I_ made?!"

The three of them nodded, giving him their best scolding, 'no-duh' expressions throughout the movement. "Uriel started it, but you're certainly not helping," Jegudiel shrugged. "Before this fight, _you_ were the leader. Act like it," he finished curtly. The group turned and took off away from him, leaving Michael standing alone on the balcony, arms crossed and a marred mess of emotion over his tired face. He looked back in the direction Kenny stormed off and took a long breath. Watching the blonde throughout the last few months had made it abundantly clear: Some things just never change.


	40. Be Above Reproach

**A fool always loses his temper, But a wise man holds it back. -** _**Proverbs 29:11** _

Kyle's posture was rigid, nearly stone in comparison to Pip who was walking meekly beside him. His keen eyes swept across the landscape, occasionally baring a fang for any mortal or demon who wandered just a little too close for his liking. Occasionally, he would let his focus find Damien in relativity to their direction, letting out long sighs of relief when the demon's position didn't seem to change in the slightest.

"It's up here," Pip said softly, jerking his head up towards the horizon.

"You okay?" Kyle asked, raising his brow at Pip's nervous disposition.

He smiled awkwardly and shrugged. "Well...it's just...mortals aren't _allowed_ to be in with the tomes," he said. "Why, if I'm caught, they'll-"

"Hold it," Kyle held up his hand and smirked. "Pip, you're with me, all right? If I'm up with Damien's ranking, then no one's going to question you being with me. Or at least argue it," he shrugged. Pip twiddled his fingers nervously, jolting a bit as Kyle patted his back reassuringly. "Look, if any demon comes after you, me and Valefor are right there, okay?" he gestured down to the happily trotting dog on his other side. "I know what I'm doing."

"But, you _don't_ ," he protested. "Kyle, you don't know how any of this works."

"Which is _why_ you're taking me to the damn library or whatever they call it," he waved his hands dramatically.

"The bibliotheca," he murmured, gulping as the large building swept into their view beyond a hill.

Kyle rolled his eyes, "So fucking prissy. Ken told me that Satan's a huge fucking queen but-"

"Kyle!" he looked at him in offended shock.

The redhead blinked. "What? I'm gay and I'm called a goddamn queen all the time. Besides, fuck you, I'll call the father of my abductor a fucking faggot if I damn well want to," he scoffed.

Pip pouted, "You know, you were much nicer when we were children."

He shrugged with a chuckle, "I also wasn't a demon when we were children. Gimme some liberties here." Pip shook his head, biting his lip as they approached the bibliotheca, large wooden doors looming over them dauntingly. Kyle stepped in front and pushed open a barrier with ease, jerking his head for Pip and Valefor to step inside. Valefor bounded in, the blonde shakily following behind him. Kyle glanced around the surrounding area for bystanders, nodding to himself and walking in behind Pip.

They came to the middle of a large, open area, Kyle's eyes widening at the vast array of books shelved ceiling-high. He took a deep breath, shuddering as his heightened smell was assaulted with the delicious smell of musty parchments. " _Shit_ ," he said simply in wonder.

"It's a lot, I told you!" Pip said worriedly, glancing around for possible attackers.

"I know," he grinned, eyes glittering. "Dude, if this was all history books, it'd be like my ultimate wet dream."

"That's repulsive," Pip's nose scrunched in distaste. Kyle snorted, stepping further into the alcove and glancing around in interest. He stopped as he caught a group of four demons lingering behind shelves together, staring at him with wide eyes.

He smirked, a dark gleam flashing through his irises. "Excellent. Help," he raised his brow. He folded his finger at the lot and they shakily looked at each other, stepping out from their hiding spot. Pip yelped and dove behind Kyle, clenching his shirt and peering behind his arm.

"Can I help you, My lord?" one brave soul asked, stepping forward. Kyle scanned him up and down, a large, rust colored beast with ram horns standing before him and bowing his head respectably.

"Yes, actually," he smiled sweetly, folding his hands together. "I require some assistance. Some very _discreet_ assistance," he raised his brow in warning. The demon blinked and Kyle looked back as Pip began shaking uncontrollably. He put his focus back on the demon. "What is your name?" he asked simply.

"Seirexal, Sir," he nodded curtly.

"Seirexal," he repeated. "Will you and your little buddies there be willing to quietly help me?" he questioned.

Another of the beasts, slender with piercing violet eyes, stepped from the lot and pointed accusingly at the redhead. "This is Master Damien's whipping bitch," he hissed. Kyle's eyes narrowed in the slightest as he continued. "He's _mortal_. He shouldn't be in here!"

"Ah, except Damien made me like you," he replied smoothly, feeling Pip's fingers clenching around his shirt tighter. "And your name?"

He narrowed his eyes, stepping beside Seirexal firmly. "Cradahr."

Kyle nodded, "Cradahr. All right then. Tell me, Cradahr, do you not realize that I am on the same level as Damien?"

"Well I-"

"And _you_ are nothing but a fucking worm under my foot?" he snapped.

Pip looked around his shoulder and up at him in shock. "Kyle, what on Earth has gotten into-"

"Come _here_ , Cradahr." Kyle ordered, mottled eyes gleaming with malice. The lean, dark monster shuddered before straightening himself up and walking proudly over to the redhead, looking down at him. Kyle crossed his arms and raised his brow. "Now, Cradahr, are you going to assist me or not?"

"I don't believe it would be in Lord Damien's best interests."

"Oh? Do you?" he narrowed his eyes. "He wants me to be like him, I'm willing to learn," he said in an oily voice that sent a chill down everyone's spines. "Once more: Will you help?" Cradahr looked back at the group behind him, the three of them motionless in the tension of the room. He looked back at Kyle, flinching at the rage suddenly overshadowing his face. "Wrong answer," he hissed, snapping his hand forward into the demon's chest, clenching his fingers and slowly dragging it through the left side of his body. Cradahr howled in agony, choking on blood while Pip screamed, falling back from behind Kyle and onto the floor, scrambling beside Valefor. Kyle gritted his teeth, his hand tearing through bone and muscle, finally snapping out of Cradahr's ribcage, his hand proudly holding his prize as the demon fell into a crumpled heap on the ground.

The remaining demons backed up a few steps, staring in horror as Kyle turned Cradahr's heart in his hand before dropping it to the ground atop the demon's back. He stared silently down at his masterpiece, blood dripping from his hand and wrist as Cradahr's body burst into flame and disappeared. The redhead looked back up at the cowering demons, putting that sweet smile back on his face. "Does anyone else have concerns?" They shook their heads briskly and he nodded curtly. "Excellent. Then I need some spell books."

Seirexal gulped, eyes flickering to the rubies cascading off his hand still. "What kind?"

"Ah, you'll stay with me, Seirexal, I have some basics I need help with," he smirked. He glanced at the other two. "One of you is to find me the spell Damien used to infect me with his power," he ordered. "And I need any _other_ kind of spell that's related to it, be it reversals or those that are similar in nature." He waited for a nod of understanding before continuing, "I need the other to fetch me any banishment spells that you can find."

"Banishment, Sir?" one of them asked.

"Yes," he replied simply, tone implying he did not enjoy being questioned on the matter and for them to tread lightly. "Banished. It means exiled. Sent somewhere else. _Gone_. Is that clear enough for you now?"

He nodded briskly, "Yes, My lord."

"Good. **Go** ," he ordered sharply, watching the two of them dashing off in opposite directions. He looked up at Seirexal, looking awfully unconfident standing before the tiny menace on his own. "Can you find me something to clean my arm with first, Seirexal? As well as a book on laws of the realm, please." he requested. The demon nodded, turning on his heel and hurrying towards the back of the bibliotheca.

Kyle looked down to see Pip still staring at him with his mouth partially agape. "You okay down there?" he raised his brow.

"Y-you...you killed him...Kyle, how could you..." he stuttered, running his fingers through his stringy hair.

He smiled, "C'mon, Pip, he'll respawn. I didn't _kill_ kill him," he shrugged casually, admiring his bloodstained hand and sucking a bit of the substance from off his finger while Pip watched on in horror. Kyle looked back at him as he tongued over his lips and blinked, "What?"

"What on Earth is wrong with you?" he whispered in fright, shakily using Valefor for balance as he worked back up onto his feet.

"What are you talking about?"

He looked at him as though he were stupid, the redhead seeming genuinely confused by his reaction. "You're...you're acting like _him_ ," he said meekly.

Kyle paused, cocking his head. Pip jerked back a bit as his eyes seemed to soften all at once, any hint of ruthlessness dissolved in an instant. Kyle winced with a hiss, putting his hand over his right eye as it throbbed. He paused in confusion, recognizing the tempo of the pounding. It'd already been happening for a few minutes. Why didn't he notice? He looked back at Pip, "Whaddya mean? Who am I acting like?"

"Damien!" he said desperately. Kyle continued looking bewildered as Pip's brown eyes glistened over. "Kyle, you're speaking like him, you're killing like him...you just licked that demon's blood!"

He snorted, shaking his head and lowering his hand from his eye as the throbbing began to calm itself, "I did not." The blonde raised his brow, walking up and grabbing his arm, pointing to his finger with a cleared spot from the messy chaos. Kyle blinked, looking between the finger and the man beside him. Suddenly, the taste of copper was prevalent on his tongue, as though it hadn't even _noticed_ before being told what was happening."I...I don't..." His eyes flickered around confusedly, trying to piece together the information Pip was presenting him with. "But...I don't remember..."

"What _do_ you remember?" he demanded.

He furrowed his brow in concentration. "Um...asking for their help, feeling angry, and...killing that guy?" he winced.

Pip bit his lip, "Do you remember what you were saying to him before you killed him?" he questioned. Kyle shook his head slowly, a rampant fear beginning all at once within him. This couldn't be good... Pip shifted uncomfortably, giving him a worried stare. "Kyle...I think Damien affected you more than you know."

He blinked, looking down at the floor in confusion. This didn't make sense. Why were his memories of just a few moments ago so fuzzy? His mind was cleared now, right back to its typical keen self. He could easily remember the walk to the bibliotheca. He remembered joking around with Pip, walking in, starting to talk, Cradahr pissing him off...then fuzziness until seeing the demon collapsed on the floor and a heart in his hand. Bits and pieces seemed strung together until Pip compared him Damien, not even _close_ to remembering supposedly licking fucking blood. Kyle bit his lip. This wasn't good, not in the _least._

His mind shot back to his encounters with Gragor and Damien, narrowing his eyes. He remembered cleaning himself off and going to his cave to cry after Gragor, and telling Pip about how he knew he could beat Damien. He remembered what he'd done, how he'd hit them. But something was missing from when Gragor came. He couldn't remember _why_ he attacked him. He'd questioned it, not lingering too much on it and just figuring it was a case of hating the shiny bastard. But now with this latest demon...now he had to wonder. Damien he remembered every little bit of what happened. He narrowed his eyes before they shot back wide in concern. He had a _reason_ to take him on. Did he have any true motives for taking down Gragor and Cradahr?

A horrifying truth rang through his mind all at once: Demons fight for themselves.

"Oh no," he whispered, blankly walking to a table and plopping himself down on top of it, staring at the ground.

"Oh no what?" Pip asked softly, walking over to sit beside him. Valefor sat between Kyle's legs tilting his head back to stare up at him and licking his clean hand.

He looked at the man, Pip's chest tightening at the fear lingering in his gaze. "You were right," he said softly. "I'm...I'm killing demons for my own sake. For no fucking _reason_."

"Demon _s_?" he repeated.

He nodded guiltily, "I...I ripped off Gragor's head...when you and Valefor went to find me clothes," he admitted.

"Wait...literally?" he asked. Kyle nodded and he winced. "Oh...oh dear. Well..." he cleared his throat. "Gragor was very cruel to you, Kyle," he reminded him. "That's a reason."

"Not the way I went about it," he said quietly. "All he did was...taunt me a little."

He frowned, putting a hand on his back. "Kyle, you were _very_ upset that day-"

"And now?" he interrupted, looking back and praying that maybe Pip had _some_ kind of answer for him. "This demon questioned me and I ripped out his heart, what the fuck kind of logical sense does that make?"

Pip sighed, nodding subtly in agreement. "You're right. It doesn't."

"Just like Damien," he muttered exhaustedly. "I just take what I want, regardless of how _stupid_ the motive, and it doesn't even bother me enough to remember."

He cocked his head, "Do you remember your tussle with Damien?"

Kyle nodded, putting his chin into his clean palm. "But...I wasn't fighting _just_ for me when I went against him," he murmured. "Don't get me wrong, I want my fucking revenge, but I had to see what I could do to see if I could help Kenny in any way."

Pip cleared his throat, "Well...do you think you can?"

"If these asstards find the spells I need, yes," he nodded. "And I keep Damien away from my back. If he has me in full puppet mode I can't think for myself at all..." he paused and he sunk lower. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"I'm his puppet even when he doesn't have me on his strings," he said blankly, hopping over Valefor and pacing, slamming his palm against his head. "Shit, shit, _shit,_ that fucker has me!"

"No he doesn't!" Pip snapped, getting up and stepping in front of him and grabbing his shoulders to stop his pacing. "Kyle, if you're getting this upset over that fact, then he doesn't have you! And look at you, look at where you are," he gestured around. "You know full and well the risks of coming here to do whatever it is you're planning and you did it anyhow! If Damien 'had' you, you'd be sitting in that prison of yours just waiting for him to come back!"

He stared at him and winced pathetically, "But he-" he stopped as Pip's hand slammed into his face, not moving him in the slightest. "Did...did you just slap me?" he blinked.

Pip grimaced, shaking out his hand. "Yes, I forgot you're a tad stronger than myself so perhaps that wasn't the best of ideas. But listen to me, you're still _Kyle_ , okay? Do what you know how to do best and figure a way out of this!"

He took a deep breath, shaking off his hold on his shoulders and looking at him defeatedly. "This isn't that _easy_ , Pip," he insisted. "I'm killing at the slightest fucking provocation and Damien probably knows all about it and is laughing his stupid ass off and-"

"Then why didn't you just kill me?" he questioned suddenly.

Kyle raised his brow, "I'm sorry?"

"I slapped you, didn't I?" he returned the expression. "Why didn't you just kill me?"

"Well...I mean all you did was-"

He held up his hand, pointing towards it. "I _physically assaulted_ you and you didn't even flinch. Gragor and Cradahr got to you through words. A little more scathing, considering a slap from me is probably equal to one from them for you." Kyle stared at him and he forced a reassuring smile on his face. "But you gave Cradahr warning. Not... _good_ warning, mind you," he rolled his eyes. "But you gave him the chance of redemption. Demons don't do that, Kyle," he said gently. "Demons don't let someone strike them without striking back. That's not how they work, trust me. I've taken more than enough wallops from accidentally smacking them while walking about to know," he winced.

Kyle looked from him to Valefor as the dog sat beside him and leaned against his leg. He slowly brought up his hand and scratched his ear. "What if he gets more of a hold on me?" he whispered. "What if...what if I kill Kenny?" he asked, eyes shining with tears.

Pip's heart wrenched and he shook his head, "You won't. Because you won't let it. Kyle, when we were _children_ you were as stubborn as a demon. Take that, add on whatever Damien's thrown to you, and run with it," he advised. "If you don't _let_ him take you completely then he won't. But you have to stop opening yourself to the possibility. All it's going to take is some self control."

"That's not exactly my niche," he cringed.

He set his thin lips firmly, "Then _make_ it your niche. It's the only chance you have," he added desperately.

Kyle stared at him for a few moments before leaning forward, gently clasping him in a hug. "Thanks," he whispered.

"For what?" he blinked, returning the embrace.

"For keeping me grounded," he said softly. He leaned back and bit his lip, "I never realized that Kenny was the one who kept me going in a straight line. But when I didn't have him, I was completely losing control of myself. I _really_ appreciate you sticking around with me through all this crazy bullshit."

He chuckled embarrassedly, waving the notion off. "Demons also aren't so tackily sentimental," he teased. Kyle scoffed and lightly smacked his arm, rolling his eyes as Pip burst into laughter.

"Dickhead," he muttered with a blush. He sighed, looking around at the large collection of tomes surrounding him, hoping desperately that one of them had the answers he needed.

Pip calmed and glanced up at his curious expression. "What exactly are you wanting out of this, Kyle? What are you looking for?"

Kyle looked at him and smirked. "I can't tell you just yet, but trust me: If this system works like I think it does..." He paused, tonguing over his fangs and looking as Seirexal wandered back towards them, a towel and a large book in his hand. He dropped into a murmur, heart pounding excitedly at the possibilities, "Damien doesn't stand a chance. Against Kenny _or_ me."


	41. With Pride Comes Disgrace

**Thoroughly wash me, inside and out, of all my crooked deeds.** **Cleanse me from my sins. For I am fully aware of all I have done wrong, and my guilt is there, staring me in the face. It was against You, only You, that I sinned, for I have done what You say is wrong, right before Your eyes. So when You speak, You are in the right. When You judge, Your judgments are pure and true.** _**-Psalm 51:2-4** _

Flying made for far too short a trip, he'd decided. Kenny settled on walking to the arena, dragging Resurrection and grumbling to himself for the entirety of his journey. He remembered this feeling; the one he got when going home when he was a kid. Walking in to an alcoholic father, a pill-snorting mother, and a loud mouthed brother was something he'd dreaded every day. And this situation had no Karen to convince him that it was worth it in the end. He pouted to himself, sneering at a pair of gossiping women angels to his left, hearing them giggling as he passed and rolling his eyes. Didn't they have anything _better_ to do? Fate of their entire celestial plane was at stake, but by all means, what Jessica had the nerve to say was _so_ much more pertinent.

"Keep your chin up, Ken!" a chipper voice called. He glanced over to see Gabriel swooping towards him, giving him a smirk.

He sighed irritably. "Only if by that you mean snobbishly walk past Uriel because I'm too good for this shit."

He snorted, patting his shoulder and walking aligned with him down the pathway. "Yes, I heard you get to train with him today."

"And if you couldn't tell, I'm jumping for fucking joy," he muttered.

Gabriel nodded, "Yes, your enthusiasm is overwhelming."

Ken looked up at him tiredly, "Gabe, I hate him."

He shrugged, "Well, that's understandable. However, do know that he isn't a bad person, Kenny. He's just concerned with what could go wrong."

The blonde rolled his eyes, "Well, he's a fucking _angel_ so I figured he wasn't awful."

"You'd be surprised," he smiled sadly.

"But why is he awful to _me_?" he gestured to himself exhaustedly. "I didn't do nothin' to that fuck and he's all up in my face callin' Kyle shit," he scowled. "His fucking opinion is perfectly fucking clear. Why the _fuck_ does he keep on it?!"

He snorted, "Because Uriel's a stubborn asshole, that's why. Look, he's a dick, but he's a dick who means well."

"No, _my_ dick is a dick who means well. Bringin' goodwill to anyone it visits," he said dryly, prompting an eye roll from the elder. "Uriel thinks he's king of the angels or some shit and his word is final."

"He thinks his word is _important_ ," he corrected.

Kenny looked at him smartly, "Well he's wrong." He turned back to the front and let out a heavy sigh. "Just...fuck, this is hard enough, ya know? My powers are all over the place, blowin' up walls and crap, Kyle's only half-mortal and was... _attacked_ ," he gritted through his teeth. "I don't _need_ anyone else making shit worse, Damien's doin' that plenty on his own."

He nodded in agreement, "Yes, but Uriel is a lot like you, Ken." He smirked as the man narrowed his sight and glared at him shadily from the corner of his eyes. "He's opinionated and he thinks things need to be done a certain way."

"This is the _only_ thing that I think needs to be done a certain way," he complained. "And even what way it needs done I'm not entirely sure. All I know is I need to get Kyle _out._ That is literally my _only_ 'for-sure-gotta-happen' thing." He paused, shoulders slumping as they neared the arena. "And I don't know how," he admitted quietly.

Gabriel patted his shoulder again, blue eyes shining lightly. "We'll figure it out. Everyone has a weakness. We'll find Damien's."

He nodded. "Mind telling me Uriel's weakness? If he has a bad ankle or something I need to smack the ever-loving shit out of it." Gabriel broke into laughter, shaking his head as they came to the edge of the platform. Kenny looked down, seeing Uriel standing and looking as miserable about the arrangement as he did. He sighed, "Great."

"Go on," Gabriel encouraged with a light push on his back. "Procrastinating will only make it worse."

"You're as bad as Kyle when we had finals," he muttered, leaping down towards the ground. He flapped his wings a couple times before touching down, landing with a gentle thump.

Uriel looked up at him and sighed. "Let's get this over with."

"Sounds good," Kenny rolled his eyes, brandishing Resurrection. "I say we don't talk and I just beat the shit out of you. Sound like a plan?"

He rolled his eyes, "Sure. Until I distract you with that _demon's_ name and you fall into a puddle of tears." God's orders or not, a part of the archangel just didn't care. He was infuriated with the entire situation, and the only way to get through stubbornness in his opinion was _more_ obstinacy.

Kenny growled, leaping forward before even giving Uriel the chance to grab Repentance. The elder jumped to the side, dodging with wide eyes as Kenny swung his blade down rapidly. "Take it back!" he screamed, landing and quickly pivoting himself around to continue his assault.

Uriel snarled, leaping away from yet another swing and whipping out his weapon at last, meeting Resurrection with an angry clash. "Admit that he's a danger and maybe I will!" Kenny's eyes glossed, the light bursting through his sword and rushing down Repentance. Uriel scoffed smugly. "You can't burn me," he taunted, grey irises sparking and his sword catching fire.

Kenny pushed himself back, using Uriel's stance as leverage. They both circled around each other, swords both blazing with life and held directed at the other's throat. " _You_ are the only fucking danger," Kenny hissed. "Can't even give two shits about someone who's suffering!" he pressed forward, swiping his blade towards Uriel's hip. He fended it off with a barrage of sparks raining between the two of them, both of them twisting to get off of one another and returning to their stances.

"We're _all_ suffering," he reminded him staunchly. "Every single one of us is going through _something_ in this battle!" The elder blonde tried stabbing at his stomach, Kenny meeting Repentance and twisting his blade around the other's, a sickening scrape echoing in their ears as they pirouetted around one another before they finally separated.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about your plight," he feigned a pout. "Must be real difficult getting through all this training with that giant stick up your ass!" He slammed Resurrection towards his neck, growling as Uriel bent his front half down and avoided it, bringing in his weapon from underneath towards Kenny's knees. The man jumped, slamming his foot down and bringing the metal to a halt on the clouds, catching his swing's momentum and going in for the kill. Uriel let go of his blade for a moment, twisting himself out of the line of fire and raising his foot, slamming it into Kenny's stomach and sending him stumbling back. If Kenny was going to play childishly, he would just have to sink down to his level.

Uriel re-grasped Repentance, flying towards him in a blaze of swings. Kenny parried off each one, raising his free hand and holding it up towards Uriel's face. The blonde blinked, Kenny's light blinding him and sending him soaring to the opposite end of the ring. He groaned, getting back on his feet and rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, and whining about no one to fucking suck your dick must be a pain, too."

Kenny blanched before letting out a long screech between clenched, bared teeth, taking off and rushing towards him, fingers locked so tightly around his hilt he couldn't feel his knuckles. Uriel's foggy vision provided him with plenty enough to see the approach, the fire reigniting and meeting a downwards thrust. "FUCKING REALLY?!" the man screeched from past their swords, Uriel winced as Kenny's strength seemed to increase with every passing second he held him off. "He was fucking _raped_ and you think that's fucking okay to say?!" Uriel stiffened in realization of what he said, Kenny taking his momentary daze and reaching past their blades, slamming his fist straight into his nose. Uriel stumbled back, wincing and holding his face as blood seeped from his nostrils. He looked up to see Kenny's eyes completely translucent, light wavering around his sword distortedly, probably beyond wishing that Resurrection could cut him so he could take his head.

He straightened up, taking a shuddery breath and nodding slowly. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "That was out of line."

Kenny nearly did a double-take, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "You. _You're_ saying sorry?"

"What's happening to him isn't fair," he said. "No one here will say that it is. But he's _one person_."

"He's worth everyone else to _me_ ," he snapped. "If you fucking had _someone_ you'd understand. But you can't even make a fucking friend with as much as a douche as you are," he gestured to him wildly.

"Kenneth, I just want what's best for Earth," he said lowly, wiping off the remaining blood from his upper lip and shaking his head a bit to try to rid himself of the pain.

He looked at him bewilderedly. "Why do you think I don't? When did I _ever_ say 'fuck Earth, let everyone die'?"

"Your insistence on rescuing the demon is-" he stopped dead in his tracks as Kenny put Resurrection's tip against his throat.

"Call him that one more goddamn time, Uriel. See what fucking happens," he hissed. "I'll _find_ a way for this fucking sword to go through your fucking neck."

Uriel took a deep breath, pushing the blade out of his space. "Fine. Your insistence on rescuing _him_ shows enough that you only care for yourself and his well-being."

He blinked at him, too far in shock at the words to let his anger out. "I let Damien take him." He reminded him blankly. "He was gagged and tied up and beaten black and fucking blue in front of me, and I had the option to save him to fuck you all over. I didn't fucking take that option, much as I wanted to." Uriel stared at him in silence and Kenny bit his lip angrily, feeling his teeth breaking the skin but paying it no mind. He could feel the rage swirling inside of him, leading him on a full-frontal assault. "I let the fucking _antichrist_ take him!" he screamed. "I didn't hand him over to any old lunatic, I handed him to _Damien_."

"Look-"

"SHUT UP!" he screamed as he began completely losing his control, tears rolling down his cheeks. Uriel jerked back a bit, nodding slowly in silence. "Damien _told_ me what he was going to do and I fucking let him go! Kyle's being tortured because of _me_ ," he gestured to himself with his free hand. "I...I gave him to Damien on a fucking platter," he whispered desperately. "And you fucking think I don't care about Earth?" he asked in disbelief. "He's worth everyone to me and more and I _still_ let him be fucking taken!"

Uriel gulped down a heavy breath, not quite sure where to go from here. He had a point. He'd been there, he'd seen the condition Kyle was in, heard Damien threaten to completely destroy him, saw how distraught Kenny had been over the choices presented to him. "You were...not very sure on your decision," he argued weakly, knowing full and well he was backed up against the wall.

He narrowed his eyes. "Oh. I'm fucking _sorry_. I should've gotten Damien a bottle of wine, right? Should've made a toast and complimented how well he beat the shit out of my fiancé? Maybe make him a nice little card that said 'yeah, go ahead and fuck him, he's YOURS FOR THE TAKING'!" he screamed, throwing Resurrection onto the ground and sobbing into his hands, gripping at the bangs hanging in his face hopelessly.

Grey eyes stared helplessly at the complete disaster unfolding before him, his chest nearly welded shut in an influx of guilt and pity he'd been holding back for so long. He glanced up at the balcony, seeing Gabriel joined by Raphael and Selaphiel, all three of them glaring at him furiously from above. He leaned Repentance against the wall, taking a step towards the broken man. He cautiously laid a hand on his shoulder, taking it back when Kenny jerked from the touch. "I'm sorry," he whispered, barely audible over Kenny's hysteric crying.

"No, you're not," he choked out, bringing down his hands and looking at him with stained eyes; miserable eyes that belonged to a man who'd dealt with far too much.

"I am," he insisted quietly. He looked down at the ground and took a deep breath. "I...honestly forgot you were given the option to exchange your abdication for his safety," he admitted. Kenny stared at him as he crossed his arms and shifted awkwardly. "All I remembered from that day was thinking 'why don't we just kill Damien right here, right now and prevent this whole thing'."

"Because it would have killed Kyle," he whimpered.

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. And...I didn't care."

"What a fucking shock," he snarled and rolled his eyes, trying to subdue his sniffling.

Uriel held up his hand. "That's not entirely true...I _did_ care. If I didn't, I would've struck him down right then and there. My job is to preserve life, Kenneth, as much as you think I just want to take the dem- _Kyle's_ head for myself...I truly don't."

"Then why do you act like it's so fucking easy of a choice?" he whispered.

He sighed, "Because, for me, it would be. I don't know Kyle, I don't particularly care about him. If it had been a different mortal that none of us had any connections to...We probably would have taken him out with nothing more than a prayer and a thank you for his sacrifice. But...if someone were to tell me to choose between, say, one of the other archangels and the world...I may have a much harder decision in front of me."

He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "I want to save everyone," he reiterated. "I don't want _anyone_ to die because of me. I've been avoiding that as best as I could for so fucking long with my fucking dying over and over," he rolled his eyes. "I'm _terrified_ of fucking this up, Uriel. I'm going out of my _mind_ trying to figure out just where to go from here. But it's so much _easier_ to focus on getting Kyle first. If he goes down...I-I don't know what'll happen," he whimpered. "Either I go out of my mind and manage to kill Damien's fucking army at once or I just fall apart and Damien kills me. I just don't _know."_

"None of us do," he said softly, rubbing his arms tiredly. "The fact of the matter is..." He paused and sighed irritably. "Hell, I don't even know anymore," he muttered, kneading his temple. "There are just too many levels to everyone here to find facts."

"Thought it was 'black and white'," he mocked angrily.

He shook his head, "No. That was foolish of me to say. You've been jerked around so much by this situation. Losing sleep, seeing him suffering, being forced to learn what we had so many eons to practice in so few months..." he trailed off and sighed. "It's been a very _very_ long time since I've been in a situation where someone I care about in particular is on the line."

"What, you lost someone you loved like this?" he asked quietly.

He smiled sadly, "Yes. All of us did." Kenny cocked his brow and Uriel curled in his lips and bit down lightly. "It was Lucifer," he said softly. The man stared at him with wide eyes and he shrugged. "We all lost someone that day. But apparently," he gestured to the group watching them, " _they_ didn't forget how hard it was. How it took so _long_ for any of us to recover from such a devastating loss; To rally ourselves up and do what was right."

Kenny's lips parted a bit, the look of depression on the angel's face conflicting him beyond what he believed to be possible. He wanted so badly to continue to scream at the man who'd caused him so much distress, but, that part was slowly dissolving in the stoic air surrounding them. "What happened?" he questioned.

"That's...a story for Michael to tell," he winced a bit. "He was hurt more than any of us," he shrugged listlessly.

Kenny was silent for a moment, letting this new information sink into his skin. A part of him was relieved that he seemed to finally have at least a _part_ of Uriel on his side, but, the implication he was making seemed obvious. "So, you think I should sacrifice Kyle like you did him," he said quietly.

His grey eyes trailed back up and he took a long, steadying breath. "I pray you don't have to," he answered simply. "Seeing you there sobbing just...made me remember," he laughed humorlessly. "I'd forgotten how hard it was. Tried to move past it..."

"Tried to repress it," he finished, getting a small nod. "Yeah, I can relate to that," he muttered. He looked up at Uriel's pitiable stare and sighed. "I promise, I want everyone to be safe," he whispered. "And like everyone's been telling me...he might be the one I end up fighting." He gulped, "And if it comes down to that...I can't tell you for sure what'll happen. I could lie and say I'd take him down no problem if I didn't have the option or I could scream that it's not happening like I have been all this time. I just don't know. And it's killing me."

He nodded softly. "I understand. I still believe that he isn't worth the world...but he's not _my_ world, so I can't be the one to judge. I'm sorry I tried to make it my place to do so." Kenny smiled meekly at him and he gave a small one back. "We'll train tomorrow instead," he offered. "I think we both need to take some time and collect our thoughts."

"Okay," he whispered. Uriel grabbed and re-sheathed Repentance, awkwardly reaching over and patting Kenny's shoulder before taking flight up over the balcony.

Their audience looked at him and Raphael smirked. "Welcome back," he said quietly. Uriel took a deep breath, silently turning from them and flying back towards the resting grounds. The three of them looked back down sympathetically at Kenny standing alone, seeming frozen in time and his attention locked down on the ground beneath him. "Think he needs us?" the brunette asked.

Gabriel shook his head, "No. I think he needs some time alone. Us pushing him won't help. What else is there that we could possibly say?" The other two nodded in agreement, but they all stayed above him, watching him carefully, the instinct to protect him from the world shattering overwhelming. The blonde couldn't feel their presence, couldn't feel anything but an exhaustion he wasn't sure of how to conquer. Kenny's breathing wavered as he stroked his thumb along the silver ring wrapped around his finger, staring at it miserably in the desolate silence.


	42. Pass Through the Fire

**When you enter the land which the LORD your God gives you, you shall not learn to imitate the detestable things of those nations. "There shall not be found among you anyone who makes his son or his daughter pass through the fire, one who uses divination, one who practices witchcraft, or one who interprets omens, or a sorcerer, or one who casts a spell, or a medium, or a spiritist, or one who calls up the dead. -** _**Deuteronomy 18:9-12** _

His fingers traced listlessly over the crinkled page, gently running over the ridges as his eyes scanned steadily over the words and images splayed out before him. Pip leaned over his shoulder beside him, looking from Kyle to the book and back at him again. "How on Earth are you reading that?" he questioned.

"Hm?" he replied mindlessly.

He pointed at the page, the words not making a lick of sense to the man. "What language is that?"

"Latin," he said quietly, turning his page. "Some old variation of it."

"You studied Latin?"

He shook his head, "No. Damien speaks it sometimes, and I heard a few demons here and there spit some out now and again. It must be the language that they used to use most often. But there's English scattered around, too," he waved his hand aimlessly. "Hell, a shit ton of languages."

He cocked his head curiously, looking at his own book in his lap. "Why isn't mine like that?"

"I guess it just depends on who wrote it?" he shrugged. "I don't know. I'm piecing together enough in this guy, though," he tongued over his lips, shifting and sitting back against his stone wall. He raised his brow, a slight upturn of his lips. "If I'm reading this right, Satan created the law that minions of Hell can't kill each other because of an uprising a long-ass time ago."

Pip made a small 'huh' sound. "So you can't kill Damien?"

He twisted his mouth, "Not unless I find what I want from the scrolls," he gestured to a pile in the corner. One of the demons had scrounged him up a good armful of spells deriving from the one Damien had used on him. He managed to glance at a few on the way back to the prison the few days beforehand, wincing at the clearly spelled fact that no matter what variation, there was always blood involved.

The blonde nodded softly, letting out a sigh and staring at Valefor napping on Kyle's shins. "Kyle, this just seems awfully dangerous."

He snorted, putting his book aside and stretching. "Well, Pip, I don't know if you noticed, but we're not exactly in Gumdrop Village."

He pouted, "Well I _know_ that, but you're already at so much risk."

"Exactly," he said primly, raising his legs to wake Valefor and move him off. He slowly rolled onto his knees and headed towards the scrolls. "What's a little more at the rate I'm going, right?" Pip rolled his eyes, looking back at his book and furrowing his brow. This was all so _complex_. "Did you find something you think I can use?" Kyle asked, mindlessly sorting through papers, quickly glancing through them and separating them into piles.

"Erm," he winced, "Perhaps? I have one here that it says is for 'The eternal enslavement of-'"

"Nope," Kyle cut him off. "I don't want enslavement, I want banishment. I need a really strong incantation to sentence demons to wherever I specify."

He raised his brow. "You think you can banish Damien?" he questioned dryly.

The redhead shrugged, "Can't kill him, can I?" He smirked. "Look, I have my ideas, okay? You're just going to have to trust me."

"I do," he insisted, flipping a page and listlessly scanning along. He bit the inside of his cheek. Kyle had been up since they got back from the bibliotheca, tirelessly scanning book after book searching for the information he needed. He'd found out the bare bones from Seirexal, only confirming that demons couldn't kill demons and just what qualified as being the end-all of arguments within Hell. As Pip himself could have told him, Satan's exact word reigned supreme and no one had the power to override him. The blonde thought the redhead was crazy for only asking those simple questions before nonchalantly asking the demon of his own thoughts on the impending war, knowing full and well the minion couldn't refuse to answer his inquisitions.

" _So, are you a soldier?"_

" _I will be assisting the battle, yes, My lord,"_ Seirexal had answered.

Kyle had raised his brow, _"That wasn't my question."_

He'd cleared his throat and shook his head. _"No. I am not battle-bred, Sir."_

Kyle had nodded, _"And do you_ _ **wish**_ _to be involved in this conflict?"_

A long pause had shifted through the air as the demon took a deep breath, looking worried out of his mind for his answer. _"No, My lord."_

Kyle had left it at that, confusing the living hell out of Pip as the redhead sympathetically patted the demon's massive arm before gathering his materials, thanking the group kindly, and reminding them of their promise of secrecy before heading out. The blonde sighed, flipping another page and scanning for the word 'banishment' or something of the sort.

If this Kyle was anything like the Kyle he remembered from when he lived, then the redhead was already five steps ahead of the curve. He'd just have to put the pieces together along the way, all the while avoiding the suspicion of his captor. Pip had found a simple cloaking spell hidden away in his large tome, Kyle using it as his first practice to conceal the papers scattered about, blending them into the wall. Pip nearly shuddered, remembering how excited the man had gotten, the way his hands clapped and he looked at the blonde with such a large smile, his fangs gleaming in the light of the doorway. Pip didn't expect him to be able to work _anything_ yet, but getting a spell on the first try just furthered confirmed the facts: Kyle had much more of Damien than he was willing to admit.

"Huh," Kyle's voice broke through his thought process.

"What?" he looked over to find Kyle staring intensively at a large piece of parchment.

The Jew looked at him with a grin, "Are you willing to be a test subject?"

Pip blanched, "Um. Not...not _particularly_."

"Dude, if this works, I'll be able to keep you safe," he raised his brow enticingly, shaking the paper a bit. "I'll use it on both you and Val," he gestured to the dog, who looked over at his name.

The blonde gulped. "I-I don't want to be a demon, Kyle," he whispered.

"Me neither," he rolled his eyes. "It isn't a spell to turn you, I promise."

He gently set his book aside, looking at the redhead cautiously. "Then what is it?"

"A spell to connect you to me so I can get you to wherever I am," he grinned. Pip cocked his head as he continued. "Think about it," he shrugged casually, "We get separated for some reason, you're _all alone_. Demons are closing in on you. They're _after_ you," he raised his brow, watching Pip bristling in fright at the visuals. "But then all you have to do is call for me in your mind," he pointed to his own head, looking at him expectantly. "I'll hear you and be able to summon you beside me away from them."

Pip hesitantly looked at him, "Is...is it...safe?" he winced.

He shrugged, "I mean I would assume so, why would it be here if it wasn't?" Pip bit his lip. Okay that _was_ a decent point... "C'mon," Kyle hopped to his feet and headed outside with Valefor on his heel. The blonde sighed defeatedly and begrudgingly trailed behind him. He didn't _technically_ have a choice in the matter, given he knew Kyle would never sentence him for punishment for disobeying his better, but the instinct was still there. He followed him out into the open space, looking at him curiously.

"All right, we'll see how you handle it and then I'll see if it works on Val," he said, reading over the page and not seeing Pip's face dropping in shock.

"Why don't you test it on the _dog_ first?" he whined, gesturing to the happily panting mutt.

"Because Val can't talk?" he raised his brow at him, as though he'd asked what two plus two was. "Look, you're safe, I promise," he smiled reassuringly at him. "And if it hurts I'll snap your neck and you'll just respawn," he waved his hand dismissively, snorting at Pip's horrified expression. "I'm _kidding_ ," he promised. "You're fine." He glanced back at the paper, nodding curtly to himself. "All right, hold out your arm." Pip pouted but did as told, watching as Kyle grasped him around the elbow. "I'm going to cut you," he warned. "Not much, okay?"

"O-okay," he nodded shakily. He winced as the claw on Kyle's thumb dug into the thin flesh of his inner elbow, watching blood dripping down his skin.

"All right," Kyle nodded, swiping the blood and wiping it down his own temple. He cut his own arm, repeating the action on Pip's head. He placed a hand over Pip's forehead, claws pressing into his skull lightly. He tongued over his lips, looking back at the paper and eyes lighting with color. _"Unite reddit spiritui nostro,"_ he stated, Pip wincing at a small pulsing in his temple. " _Sub custodiam mean stabo_ ," Kyle bit his lip, feeling the power flowing through his arm and clashing between his hand and Pip's head. He grunted, " _Sub meum clamo._ " They both closed their eyes, shaking as the power burst between the both of them, coursing through their bodies like an adrenaline high.

It stopped as quickly as it had started all at once, both of them backing from each other and panting. Pip winced, wiping Kyle's blood from off his skin. "Well? Did it work?"

"I don't know yet," he breathed. "You okay?"

He nodded, "Little shaky, but yes, I seem to be all right."

"Cool, lemme test this. I'll head around the other side of the cave," he smirked, turning on his heel and taking off, Valefor bounding after him excitedly. Pip raised his brow as the man ran, his speed incredibly swift.

"Wow," he murmured, watching the redhead and crossing his arms thoughtfully. Kyle was almost _too_ excited to give these powers a test run. Pip sighed. Then again, he knew as well as the other that he only chance he had to fend off Damien was to get stronger. Being a test subject for a few little spells couldn't hurt _too_ bad. Besides, the redhead had chosen one to keep him protected. There was still some of the good heartedness in there despite being swathed with toxins. He yelped as he suddenly started slipping through the ground, breath caught in his throat as he descended into a portal.

He gulped, traveling through inky blackness, swamped in mugginess as he approached a small white light. He begin quickly ascending towards it, brown eyes blown wide as it approached too quickly for him to keep up with, swallowing him whole. He screeched as he burst through the ground, landing in a tangled heap on the rocks. He cringed as a hot tongue passed over his face, groaning. "I hope that's Valefor."

"Well it ain't me, I can guarantee that," Kyle's voice popped up. Pip glanced up to see him standing there, beaming with pride. "How was it?"

"Scary, but not too bad," he winced, taking Kyle's hand as he offered it down for assistance. Kyle easily yanked him up, slamming him into his chest. "Ow!" Pip yelped, backing up and rubbing his nose, glaring at the redhead. "Can you at least _attempt_ to not slam me about?"

He cringed sheepishly, "Sorry. Not quite used to it yet. But you're okay?" he perked up a bit. "Everything attached and whatnot?"

Pip hopped a bit in place and nodded, "I...I believe so."

"Awesome," he grinned wildly. He looked down at Valefor and raised his brow. "You're next. Sit." Valefor plopped down and Kyle kneeled beside him, starting to very gently cut his paw, getting a small whine and petting the dog down. "Shh, you're fine," he cooed. He looked back up at Pip after smearing the blood where his had previously been. "Gimme your arm again," he held out his hand expectantly. Pip bit his lip but did so, preparing himself for another cut. He opened his eyes as he felt none, instead experiencing a warmth cascading throughout his entire body. He looked down, seeing Kyle staring at his wound with glowing eyes, watching it stitch itself back up. It finished and he smiled, relinquishing the limb. "There you go," he said, turning his attention back to Valefor.

The blonde blinked, looking between his healed flesh and Kyle as he repeated the ritual with Valefor, talking smoothly and calmly to keep him from fidgeting, lightly rubbing him with his thumb in soothing circles. Pip smiled lightly and shook his head, watching as he finished and the both of them shook off the sensation. "Good boy," he cooed, scratching behind his ears and getting a lick across his cheek, Valefor's tail wagging excitedly as the small cut healed itself despite Kyle not focusing on it.

"You're getting very good at this," he noted softly.

"Good at what?" he looked up at him, still petting the overjoyed beast.

He gestured down to him, "Powers. You...seem to be adapting quite well."

Kyle shifted a bit and cleared his throat. "Is uh...do you think it's bad that it feels like second nature in a way?" he shrugged.

He sighed sympathetically. "I told you, you have a lot of Damien in you. And...he's an expert at spells and such. It's only natural that you would be at least a bit skilled in them."

"I guess," he murmured, standing back up and looking off in the distance, Pip catching the dulled glaze flickering through his eyes, a shadow of misery passing over his face. He sighed again, knowing that Kyle was finding Damien's energy once again, and not just to make sure they were safe to _read._

"Stop," he said, placing his hand on his arm comfortingly. Kyle looked at him and he frowned. "You're dwelling. Don't. Please."

"I'm not dwel-"

"Yes you are," he interjected. "It's okay to be upset about it, but don't let it hurt you to the point where you can't keep going. If you have a plan, focusing on what he hurt won't let you do anything and you'll fail," he insisted.

He stared at him for a moment, dropping his red eyes to the ground. "I can't help it," he admitted. "I'm trying to... _take advantage_ of my situation," he sneered at the phrasing, rolling his eyes at himself as a barrage of fear flooded back onto him, quickly pressing it down. "I just want to get everyone out of this alive, ya know?" he rubbed his head tiredly.

He frowned, "Not everyone is your responsibility," he reminded him. "You weren't supposed to be involved at _all_."

"But I am now," he retorted. "And Ken's up there fighting for everyone," he gestured towards the sky. "He shouldn't have the burden of all that on himself. Hell, I thought that _before_ I got taken down here." He shrugged, pulling from Pip's grasp. "I want him safe," he said quietly, crossing his arms. "I'm fucking kidding myself. I don't care about everyone else, I care about _him_."

"There's not a thing wrong with that," he said pitiably.

He kicked at the dirt a bit and sighed. "I wish I knew how he was," he said. "If he's as strong as everyone says he is. If he's happy at all. Hell, I'd be ecstatic to just know if he's _eating..._ I hate not knowing anything. He can't leave for a day trip without me demanding he text me every few hours to tell me he's alive," he smiled sadly.

"After this all blows over, you won't have to be apart anymore. No one else will suffer," he encouraged him gently.

He frowned, looking away guiltily. "I killed someone for him already, though," he murmured.

"Whom? Gragor?"

Kyle shook his head. "No, Nathaneal." Pip looked at him confusedly and he shrugged. "He was an angel who was down here spying. And...and he brought me a message from Kenny."

"What was the message?"

"That he loves me and he's going to save me," he smiled sadly, eyes welling. "I sent a message back and he got caught," his grin faded. "I killed an angel. A fucking _angel_. And who the hell's to say I won't do it again, ya know?"

He raised his brow. "You or Damien killed this angel?"

He rolled his eyes, "Okay, _technically_ Dam-"

"Then hush," he said sharply. Kyle blinked and he shook his head. "Kyle, you're _dwelling_ ," he repeated. "Stop thinking about the past and look forward."

He snorted half-heartedly, "Not a great thing for a history major to attempt."

"Well either you try or you change your degree to psychology because Lord knows you wouldn't let anyone else be your therapist," he rolled his eyes. Kyle stared at him for a moment before breaking into laughter, leaning back against the cave wall and shaking his head.

Pip leaned beside him as Kyle slowly calmed down, looking up into the sky together. "I hope he's okay," Kyle said quietly. "Nathaneal told me that he saw me get infected. If he's seen anything else that's happened...God, he's probably losing his mind," he bit his lip.

"Is that so bad?" he asked. "He promised to save you, so this will only encourage him further."

He was silent for a moment before shaking his head, wishing that he could see through the clouds, past earth, and up into Heaven to where his blonde lover was. "No, it's really bad," he murmured. "I know Ken better than anyone. When he's angry he can usually focus. But if he's _upset_ he has a lot of issues holding himself together." He shifted a bit. "About two years after high school, Karen got _really_ sick. She was in the hospital for weeks. I've never seen him look like that," he cringed at the memory: Kenny's hair unkempt, constant tear streaks staining his face like tattoos, the vibrant life he exuded suddenly snuffed out like a candle in the rain. "He couldn't eat, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't do _anything_. Hell, I ended up going to the hospital more than him to check on her because he literally just couldn't function."

"Did he recover when she got better then?"

He shook his head, "Before she got better, luckily. I managed to talk him down. He may not be able to die, but he _looked_ like a corpse and I just couldn't stand it anymore," he admitted. "I sat him down and we talked it out for like, four hours and he just kept crying," he sighed. "I can work around being upset, he can't."

Pip clacked his teeth together thoughtfully. "And...if he does know what happened...how do you think he'd feel?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Probably a little bit of everything. We haven't exactly _been_ in this situation before...But I mean, I almost got mugged once and he wouldn't leave me alone for weeks," he rolled his eyes. "He kept clinging onto me like he was afraid I'd just run back to the muggers and beg for them to shoot me. I can't imagine he's doing much better if he knows about this," he finished in a tiny whisper, hugging around himself and wishing it wasn't his own arms surrounding him.

The blonde sighed disappointedly. "Well...Hopefully he's got someone up there for him, hm?" he winced. "I mean, he has _God_ after all," he reminded him. "That's got to be the best shoulder to lean on, hm?" he smiled.

Kyle nodded, keeping his eyes lax on the sky. He heaved a heavy sigh and said a quiet prayer, hoping that God would hear it. Hoping that Kenny would know. Hoping for the miracle he'd been denied for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Translations:_
> 
> _Unite reddit spiritui nostro - Unite our spirits_
> 
> _Sub custodiam mean stabo - Under my watch_
> 
> _Sub meum clamo - Under my call_
> 
> Thanks for reading! We're in the single digits left and I am tearing my hair out what a time to be alive 


	43. So One Man Sharpens Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I don't know shit about the Lucifer story so I probably missed the point by a mile but shhhhh it's fanfiction it's okay. (At least that's what I'll keep telling myself when I'm burning in Hell)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.** _**-Hebrews 10:24-25** _

The relief was nearly overwhelming, as though every ounce of tension left His body at once for the first time in eternity. God didn't think He could be so happy, so _proud_ of a mortal. He watched Kyle and Pip, a grateful smile playing on His lips as the two of them talked and Kyle mindlessly levitated and threw rocks for Valefor to chase. The man was still in there. He was hurt and he was suffering and overwhelmed with what was happening to him, but he was still _in there._

"God?" a voice called.

He didn't look back, merely nodding. "Michael, thank you for coming so quickly. Come here," He folded His paw at the archangel.

Michael took a deep breath, walking over towards the deity, brow raising at the vision playing in front of him. "Is everything all right?"

"Better," He said softly. "He's still Kyle, Michael. He's having some slips, but it's still him in there."

The man bit his lip, grating it worriedly. "And if one of those slips happens to stay?"

God shook His head. "I don't believe it will. It fades with his anger and he goes back to his...well...normal self for a lack of better term," He shrugged. He looked over as the angel sat on the table next to him, watching blankly as Kyle cracked a joke about something, causing Pip to nearly double over in laughter. "Look how human he is," He commented in wonder.

Michael nodded. "Definitely seems that way."

"He's planning something," He said, getting a concerned look from His leader and smirking, waving off his worries. "Something to use against Damien," He clarified. "And I'm not sure what it is," He shrugged. "Since he turned, it's harder for me to be able to keep all my focus on him. I'm only getting bits and pieces."

"You think what he's planning will work?" he asked.

God shrugged once more, "We can only hope so. Michael, I called you in here for a reason."

He leaned his chin into his palm and stared at Him. "And that reason would be?"

The creature smiled gently, "One thing did get through from him," He gestured towards the redhead. Michael raised his brow and He continued, "A prayer. For Kenneth." Michael merely nodded, not wanting to show his surprise that Kyle had managed to keep the blonde in his thoughts throughout his transformation. "Michael, you need to speak with him," He said.

"Want me to tell him about Kyle?"

"Yes...and you know who else," He said kindly, putting His paw on his arm. Michael sighed irritably, knowing this was coming but wanting so badly to put it out of his mind. "Michael, he deserves to know why you've been so hard on him," He lightly scolded. "And he deserves to know that someone understands his plight."

He looked at him, brown eyes drowning in reluctance. "It's not the same," he whispered.

"No," He agreed. "But...it's the closest anyone else has ever gotten."

The brunette straightened back up, taking a heavy breath. "What about Damien's puppetry?" he questioned. "Can Kyle break from that?"

God's face fell and He shook His head. "No. Not as far as I can tell."

"So...there's still a chance that Kyle _will_ be a threat," he said firmly.

The deity sighed, "Which is _why_ you need to talk to Kenneth. Let him know the risks...but let him know that _his_ Kyle is still there, waiting and praying for his safety; That he's not a lost cause."

"And if he doesn't listen and continues to whine?" he raised his brow.

God chuckled, "When one is desperate, they will listen to any words of encouragement that they can find. Kenneth passed desperate weeks ago. He's made shaky but visible amends with Uriel. He needs your backing as well."

Michael slowly nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I can only hope that this won't fall on deaf ears."

God patted his arm lightly. "Telling him is hard for you, and this is hard for him," He gestured back to Kyle, who was leading his companions back to his cave, directing Pip to continue searching his book while he waded through scrolls. "Those boys are fighters," He commented. "Both of them. But they're both hurt and they need someone. They can't have each other, so they'll need every _bit_ of encouragement they can receive."

Michael's shoulders dropped, watching Kyle intensively searching through his papers, easygoing attitude seeming gone for a look Michael recognized a bit too well. A shudder ran down his spine and he gulped, nodding again. "I'll do what I can."

He smiled at him before turning back to watch Kyle's determined stance with him, the both of them taking a deep breath, wishing they had the answers. For now, however, it was up to the little redhead to figure it out, and for them to merely hope.

* * *

Kenny listlessly swung his legs over the edge of the balcony of his room, staring off into the sky with dreary eyes. His fingers mindlessly picked grapes that Raphael had forced on him from a bowl, fingers twiddling stems and breaking them off. He popped one into his mouth, the fruit exploding with flavor along his tongue. He barely recognized the sweetness caressing his taste buds, mind far too preoccupied in his misery. He felt awful. This was worse than any death he'd ever experienced. His innards felt as though they were being torn apart, every ounce of him wanting to crumple into a puddle on the ground and escape this nightmare.

He took a deep breath through his nose, wondering if Kyle was eating, if Damien had even _allowed_ him to eat anything but dirt the last five months. He sniffled, quickly forcing it down. He was cried out, his eyes burning from tears and a lack of sleep. It'd been so _long_ since he'd felt like this. He forgot how utterly terrible it all was. He closed his eyes to the watercolor twilight sky, wishing that he could hear Kyle tell him something. Tell him he loved him, or that he was going to make burgers for dinner, or even yell at him that he fell asleep during one of his stories again.

"Kenneth?"

He shot his head back, finding Michael awkwardly lingering in his doorway. "Yeah?"

Michael took a deep breath through his nose, stepping out and sitting down beside him, looking out at the landscape while Kenny stared at him. "How are you?" he asked.

"Horrible," he whispered.

He nodded, "So I can tell."

He cleared his throat. "Did you need something?" Kenny asked.

He took another long breath, swiping one of Kenny's grapes and popping it into his mouth, chewing to stall for time, if only for a few seconds. "Yeah. I need to talk to you...about...someone," he said slowly.

"Lucifer?" he guessed, getting a surprised look out of the brunette. He shrugged sheepishly, "Uriel told me I needed to talk to you about him."

"Ah," he nodded softly. Well that made it a _little_ easier to start the conversation.

"So...what happened?" he asked awkwardly.

Michael leaned back, supporting his weight on his hands and drumming his fingers against the marble beneath them. "Do you know how our order came to be?"

Kenny raised his brow. "God...made you?" he guessed.

"Right," he nodded. "God needed specific angels for specific jobs. The bigger the job, the higher the ranking. Myself and Lucifer were the first archangels that He created," he said softly. "Myself for the leader of His lower angels, Lucifer as a guiding light."

"Guiding light?" he repeated.

"Yes, someone for mortals to turn to in times of darkness," he shrugged. "Anyway, we came about and our swords were crafted and we were told to prepare. For what, we were never told, God only telling us that it was a matter of utmost importance." He flickered his eyes over, seeing Kenny's full attention centered on him. "We learned everything from the ground up together," he reminisced, a small smile over his face. "We learned to fly, to fight. We learned whymortals matter, why _we_ mattered...He was my best friend. My brother," he looked at him, Kenny's heart dropping at the misery flooding his deep amber eyes.

Michael continued, "Time went on, and the others were added to the order. First Raphael, then Gabriel, Barachiel, Jegudiel, Selaphiel, and then Uriel coming last. All eight of us were inseparable, but myself and Lucifer more than the rest. I was designated leader, but he was always at my side, leading right along with me. He would occasionally take the ropes over smaller tasks. He was excellent when he did," he smirked. "He was...strong. He was determined and...and willing to do anything to help achieve a goal."

"Overachiever, huh?" he grinned sadly, a particular redhead sounding awfully familiar to the description.

He chuckled and nodded. "Yes. He more than once convinced me to skip meals or sleep in lieu of either practicing combat or learning. God called him His favorite student," he shook his head, scratching at his long hair.

Kenny tongued over his lips, completely engrossed in his story. "So...what happened?"

His face fell defeatedly, eyes glistening over. "I still don't know what the catalyst was," he murmured. "He went to Earth time and again over a period of time to help mortals...and something... _changed_." He bit his lip and sighed. "It started out small. Things like...asking for a different flavor of wine or a different color of grape. Things that no one would blink at."

The blonde raised his brow. "So...why was _that_ when it started, then?"

"Because we were taught to accept all of God's gifts as they come," he explained. "We were just to thank Him and bear with His plan. No one had ever _asked_ for something different," he shrugged. "But we thought nothing of it. We laughed. We teased him, calling him a picky child. But we didn't mind, in fact, we swiped some of his newer wine," he smirked a bit. "Then...those little things just kept adding up."

He cocked his head, "How so?"

"All of a sudden, his sword wasn't good enough anymore. Enlightenment had been at his side since the day he was created," he frowned. "Held as closely to him as you hold Resurrection." Kenny's hand automatically brushed over the hilt hearing its name, eyes still locked on the elder. "It was just as beautiful a blade," he said tiredly. "Lucifer wielded Enlightenment like it truly _was_ part of his arm. Only I matched his abilities, it was incredible to watch him spar..." he trailed off a bit, leaning back up and looking at the sky. "But, he didn't _want_ to use Enlightenment anymore. So, we asked him what it was he wanted...He told us he wanted...freedom," he narrowed his eyes.

Kenny blinked confusedly. "Oh no. How dare he?"

"Remember, this was _before_ Hell was truly a place of damnation, Kenneth. Then, it was merely...empty space," he shrugged. "We sent souls there to stay at rest if they died uneasily before they ascended to us. Free will was around, don't get me wrong. However, it was never so...brash," he said. "No one outright _said_ they wanted a choice. Acceptance was easier than questioning God's will, after all."

The blonde nodded slowly, blue eyes wide with anticipation.

"Lucifer wanted more than that, though," he bit his lip. "He went from merely _saying_ he wanted freedom to actually working towards it. He defied God to His face, telling Him He was a blind fool for how He'd made the world. He told Him that were He a merciful God, He would have never created the mortals as He had."

"Whaddya mean?" he narrowed his eyes in confusion.

"God gave them the ability to choose, and then denied them their right to do so," he answered softly.

Kenny blinked, "Dude, doesn't He _still_ do that? That's what church told me anyway."

He chuckled lightly, "Not so much anymore, no," he shook his head. "Now it's more... _guidelines,_ " he smiled. "Choose to be a decent person in the end and your chances of salvation are much higher. Before Lucifer changed everything, He was much more strict, trust me," he held up his hand a bit.

He nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue on.

"Anyway, Lucifer claimed that _he_ would be a better God. He would allow mortals to live their own lives as they saw fit. He would let chaos reign if that's the way that his plan took him..." he paused, rubbing his forehead tiredly as he stared at his legs. "He said he wanted to figure things out. I told him to go to Earth," he muttered. "I told him to go down, collect his thoughts, and come back when he was the Lucifer I remembered."

"He never came back?" he winced.

"Oh, he did...With an army," he replied bitterly, clenching his fist. "He learned how to corrupt the mortals so fiercely that they became another creature entirely."

"Demons," Kenny whispered, getting a confirming nod.

"He came for Heaven and God's head. He asked me and the others to fight by his side and realize that he 'had the right path'." He tongued over his lips, taking a shaking breath. "The others just...flew away from him with a warning that should he continue his approach, they'd take him down. Mind you...none of them meant it," he said sadly, looking back into those shining blue eyes. "They thought that perhaps he was just restless. That time was all he needed and he'd be back to being our brother again."

Kenny shifted a bit, clasping his hands in his lap. "You said the others flew away...What about you?"

"I begged," he whispered. "I _begged_ him to stop what he was doing. I couldn't _stand_ seeing my brother becoming something that he was not." Kenny gulped, nodding slowly in understanding. "I told him if he stopped, I'd find a way to compromise. I'd find him a way where everyone could be happy. I would have done anything for him..." he paused, shuddering lightly. "I offered find a way to kill myself so he would be leader," he admitted quietly.

Kenny's face dropped in horror, "Why would you _do_ that?"

He shrugged, "When you love someone, your life doesn't seem as important if they're at risk. You know this just as well as I do."

Kenny's jaw slowly closed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Life's not worth living without 'em anyway."

"Exactly," he said. "Lucifer said no, he didn't want to merely rule the angels. He wanted the entire domain. He wanted Earth and the mortals under his thumb. I kept pleading for him to stop...But he wouldn't. He told me I had a choice: Either I was with him, or I was against him. I couldn't be both."

"But you were anyway," he finished.

Michael nodded subtly. "Yes. He began his assault, taking down far more angels than I'm proud of before we fought back," he scowled, tears beading his eyes. "This was before we began respawning, and they were all sentenced to Hell since they died as such. We lost so _many_ people," he whispered, the horror ringing throughout his eyes clear enough for Kenny to see gleaming against the rose-colored sky. "But I still just _couldn't_ do it. I couldn't raise my sword to my best friend," he said, voice wavering. "He came straight at me and I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. He struck me and knocked me through a crowd of demons. Were it not for Barachiel and Jegudiel swooping in and getting me out of there, I may not have made it."

"Jesus Christ," he whispered sympathetically, awkwardly moving closer and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"The seven of us that remained had to make a choice: Do we let our home, our mission, our _God_ fall? Or do we strike down one that we love? And...well, you can obviously tell what choice we made," he shrugged sheepishly. "But... _I_ was the one that would have to bring him down," he bit his lip angrily. "I was the only one strong enough to do so..." he looked up at the sky, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. "I'll never forget the look on his face," he whispered. "He looked so betrayed, so _hurt_."

"I doubt you looked much different," he said gently, rubbing the tense muscle under his palm.

"Regardless of how I looked, I'm the one who won," he slumped exhaustedly. "I slashed him right through the back with Triumph and then God was able to send him away while the rest of us defeated the remaining demons. The only reason he doesn't have the scar anymore is because he managed to change himself into a full-fledged beast and change his celestial body when God banished him to Hell."

He narrowed his eyes, "What does that have to do with a scar?"

He smiled sadly, pointing to Resurrection's hilt poking from the man's side. "When a creature not of Heaven is hit by a divine sword, the scar will never fade. They're forever marked as unfit to enter Heaven's gates. Lucifer forfeited every _bit_ of his Heavenly presence. Had he held on to just a scrap, maybe he would have had a chance in the end. Maybe we could have saved him. I don't know, and honestly, I would never care to," he shrugged. "If I knew I _could have_ saved him and didn't..."

"It'd be worse than bringing him down altogether," he murmured.

"Right," he said quietly. He looked at Kenny's thoughtful face and sighed. "I know what you're going through," he said gently, getting the boy's eyes back on him. "I _know_ how hard this is for you. The situations are changed, and I won't deny that what you and Kyle are suffering through is worse based on what Damien's done, but the feelings are the same," he winced. "Kenneth, striking down my brother was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and I pray to God every day that I never have to do it again."

Kenny took a deep breath. "So...you're saying to...just deal with the fact it might happen with Kyle?" he guessed.

He shook his head. "No. I'm telling you that you _can_ if you have to. I just hope that you don't." Kenny looked down again and Michael took a deep breath. "Look, I know I told you that I never wanted to know if I could save Lucifer...but you deserve to know something, because I think it will help you realize your chances." Kenny flickered saddened eyes back up to him and he forced a small smile on his face. "Kyle is still fighting," he said. "He's the reason I'm talking to you about this."

The blonde cocked his head. "Whaddya mean?"

"He prayed to God for you," he explained. "Hoping that someone could talk you through your feelings. Apparently he figured you knew what happened to him, and he knew that you would be distraught and unable to focus."

Kenny blushed a bit, "Well, he knows me better than anyone I suppose."

He nodded, "That he does. Ken..." Kenny looked at him with wide eyes and his smile became more relaxed. "He's dealing with what happened," he said firmly. "Kyle is down there right now trying to find a way out of this for everyone. He's struggling, but he's persevering for the greater good. He needs you to do the same. Push down the hurt, at least for right now."

"It's hard," he whimpered.

"I know. I know it fucking hurts," he sympathized, putting his hand on Kenny's far shoulder, the two of them digging their fingers into the other's sleeve. "But the hurt can _wait_. When the war is over, if you can get Kyle out of there, then you can go home with him and you can work through this _together_. You're both taking on too much on your own emotions alone. Don't do that. Because it'll build up until...you can't even trust each other to help anymore," he patted him lightly.

Kenny sighed, "What if he turns out like Satan, though?" he whispered.

"He won't."

"How are you sure?"

He chuckled, "Because he's a demon..." he tightened his grip on Kenny as he flinched subtly at the declaration, "but no _true_ servant of the devil prays to God, Ken." He shrugged as the blonde blinked at him. "He's still got some innocence in there somewhere."

"Ky hasn't _ever_ been completely innocent," he smirked lightly. Michael smiled and patted his back a bit.

"And you're still in there, too," he pointed out. "You two need to just buckle down and hang on to what you _know_ you are."

"A redneck pervert and a Jewish nerd?" he rolled his eyes.

He snorted, "Well, that. And he knows he's still a person, despite his blood type. And you're...Lucifer's replacement," he shrugged.

He blinked in shock. "Uh, excuse me?"

"Lucifer's power was light as well," he said softly. "But _his_ light blinded him. You're too good natured to let it take you down the same path. From time to time, it may disorient you, but you never lose sight of what matters. Lucifer was created to lead the humans out of the darkness...and now that's fallen onto you," he gestured towards him. "Embrace it, Ken. You've been entrusted with the power of protection. Protect the mortals, protect Kyle...and protect yourself. Do you understand?"

Kenny nodded slowly, stroking Resurrection yet again. "I just...I hope it turns out for the best, ya know?"

Michael smirked and shook him a bit. "Between your stubbornness and Kyle's fire, I think you both have a chance. Fate is going to go where it wants to go, and you need to be prepared for anything...But don't let it all overwhelm you. All right?"

"All right," he nodded, smiling at him. Michael's body relaxed at the sincerity behind it. "Thanks."

"Not at all. Just don't make me talk to you for so long again," he said. "You're an awkward slack-jawed listener, you know that?" he teased.

Kenny snorted, slapping him over the head a bit. "Well I'm sure it's the first time someone's cared enough to actually listen to you and your boring-ass lectures. Next time gimme the cliff notes, will ya?" he drawled out and rolled his eyes. The both of them looked at each other before slowly breaking into laughter, their arms leaning against each other as they chortled. Every ounce of tension dropped as they let themselves sink into the moment, let themselves fall under the spell of hope. For now, at least, the both of them could let go of the hurt and embrace what company they had together, and look forward into the sky, into the sun; towards tomorrow.


	44. Bear One Another's Burdens

**Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. -** _**Philippians 2:4** _

The time was approaching, and he could feel it in the air. Damien made his way through hoards of minions, grinning to himself at the sound of battle cries and clashing weapons ringing throughout the long stretch of land leading up to his father's office. He took a deep breath, the stench of iron polluting every spore of air and making him shudder in anticipation. His moment was so close he could _taste_ it. He could see McCormick a bloodied corpse on the ground; Angels, God, and Jesus following suit. His demons would cheer, Kyle would be in an inconsolable state and break in half in his hands. _Everything_ would be his.

He pounded his fist on the door, hearing his dad grumbling a response and rolling his eyes. The demon stepped in through the barrier, raising his brow at Satan pacing the front of his desk, rubbing his forehead like it was his mission in life. "Uh...That kinda day, Pops?" he cocked his brow.

Satan looked at him and frowned. "Damien, we ran some numbers."

"Oh boy, here we go," he sighed in exasperation, leaning against a bookshelf on the wall.

"Son, we're going to outnumber Heaven by only about 5,000 soldiers," he informed him, grabbing a paper off his desk and throwing it at him. Damien rolled his eyes and snagged it from the air, scanning over the figures laid out before him listlessly.

"That's 5,000, Dad. That's a good number," he said dryly.

He scowled, "Damien, the odds will _destroy_ us. And I can't fucking wait a week for all my workers to respawn! You realize how fucking clogged the system is going to get if this battle is lost?"

"Well, it's a good thing we're not gonna lose," he replied cooly, balling up the paper and tossing it back to the Beast.

Satan groaned, sitting on his desk and shaking his head. "Dammit, Damien. Please, _please_ realize what you're doing."

"Defeating our enemies, claiming my prizes?" he raised his brows expectantly.

He scoffed, "Prize _s_? Damien, you've won _one_ thing."

"And he's _the_ thing," he pointed at his father a bit.

Satan cocked his brow, "Oh _really_? Because, from what I hear, he's being fairly... _mortal_ despite your hold."

Damien paused, reading more in his tone and narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Cradahr came by to talk to me," he shrugged. "Apparently Kyle went to the bibliotheca, asking for discreet assistance. And when Cradahr said that he didn't think going against your wishes was for the best, Kyle ripped out his heart."

The demon broke into a sick grin. "Sounds pretty demonic to me."

Satan shook his head, "Damien. What reason would Kyle have to go there except to find a way to fight against _you_?" he asked.

The noirette paused, biting his tongue lightly. "He's not strong enough to-"

"I was watching him the other day," he cut him off. "He's already wielding the power to cast spells." Damien's eyes widened in shock and Satan shrugged. "He's managing to balance himself out and with _your_ level of strength."

He scoffed cockily, "That little mouse isn't as strong as me."

Satan raised his brow. "Really? He seems _awfully_ adept to me."

Damien scowled, leaning up off the bookcase. "I'll be right back," he said curtly, sinking through the floor. Satan blinked and sighed, walking over to sit at his chair, looking at the crumpled figures once again. Losing so many workers for so long would be absolutely detrimental. It'd take _months_ to catch up. He stared down at his desk, hands folded atop each other in thought. Damien was going to destroy his system, completely fuck up _everything_ if they didn't win. He was taking all his best soldiers, all his torturers, all his run of the mill worker demons for this war. He was going to be left with the weaklings and the mortal workers and them alone. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. This was just getting worse and worse.

The Beast glanced up as Damien's portal appeared again, eyes widening as Damien came up with a hand clasped around Kyle's throat, the redhead scratching and kicking against him wildly. Damien threw him across the room as they landed, Kyle slamming headfirst against Satan's desk. Damien scoffed, looking at his arm that Kyle managed to tear up, the ink-stained blood trailing down his skin. Kyle hopped onto his feet, grabbing books from the shelves with his powers and wailing them at the antichrist.

"Hey, hey, I just organized those!" Satan complained. Kyle flinched at the unexpected voice, turning and looking up at the creature with wide eyes, the glowing stopping short. Satan gave him a solemn nod, "Hello, Kyle."

Kyle blinked at him and gulped, back part of his mind fearing that Satan was just as willing and ready to hurt him as Damien was. Damien approached him from behind, grabbing the back of his neck and throwing him back against a bookshelf, Kyle groaning as a few tomes stacked loosely fell on top of him. The noirette walked over and cornered him in, watching the redhead intensely before smirking. "Heard you have a little spell fetish already," he purred.

Kyle sneered, "Get away from me."

"Not until you let me know _just_ what it is that you're researching, Little one," he demanded.

He straightened up, fighting to keep his breathing under control. "None of your fucking business," he hissed.

"Banishment," Satan answered for him, Kyle looking at him with angry eyes before the expression dropped, realizing the hint of sympathy lingering in those blackened irises. "Banishment and the spells like you used on him."

Damien turned back to the trapped Jew and smirked. "Oh?" Kyle nearly ducked down before forcing his fears away and stiffening at the man leaning in his face. "Trying to banish me, hm?" he purred. "Little mouse, how _clever_ ," he cupped his chin, watching the briefest flicker of panic flash through those prismatic eyes. "Unfortunately, I'm a bit too strong for that to work," he shook him a bit. "And just _what_ are you looking for with the power exchange spell, hm?" Kyle closed his lips firmly, yelping as Damien punched his cheek and sent him back against the books again, sliding down the way onto the ground. Damien kneeled in front of him, kicking his legs apart and settling between them, Kyle flinching.

He took a deep breath, jerking from the demon's touch. "I don't want to be like this," he hissed.

The demon chuckled, "Well, you're stuck like this. There aren't reversals, Little mouse," he raised his brow. Kyle kept his staring head-on, not letting himself back down. Satan watched on, heart lurching at the cornered redhead's desperate attempts to keep himself strong. He shook his head to himself and looked away. This was just too much to put one mortal through for such a goal.

Damien held his chin, stroking his thumb down his cheek. "Just what is it you're after?"

"Your head," he snapped, shoving Damien back and sending him flying across the room. The noirette rolled back onto his feet, both his and his father's eyes widened in surprise as Kyle stood firmly, taking long, even breaths and clenching his fists. "I'm not afraid of you, you _fuck_ ," he hissed.

"Oh but you _are_ ," he shot back. "Your little tough facade there doesn't mean much when your pretty little lip is trembling."

"I'm just preparing to fake some crying at your funeral, you sick freak," he growled. Damien snorted, shaking his head and trying to rid himself of the surprise he'd been given. So his father was right, there was _definitely_ some strength in there he wasn't expecting. He glanced over the redhead's tautly wound body, poised to strike. His smirk faded as his gaze landed on his left arm.

"What the fuck," he whispered, stepping towards him, eyes locked on the limb. Kyle readied himself, more than prepared to take the monster down. He stared confusedly as Damien came up, not looking at his face, not even trying to intimidate him as usual, just hurrying to grab at him. He yelped as the demon snared his arm, holding it up towards his face. He looked at Kyle with fiery eyes. "Where is it?"

He blinked, "What?"

"Where is your fucking wound?" he snapped, brandishing the man's arm in front of his face. Kyle glanced, eyes widening at the clear skin presented in front of him. He glanced to his other arm, the scars from Valefor's attack disappeared. Damien watched him carefully, the pure confusion flickering through his expression. He blinked in shock. Kyle hadn't noticed. He hadn't _worked_ to heal them, it'd just happened.

He had to do something and _fast_.

"Look at me," he demanded, Kyle's eyes shooting back into his, holding firm. Damien stared at the streak of green running through his right eye and smirked. "Oh. _That's_ the problem," he chuckled, stroking under the man's eye. "You just won't let go."

Kyle tried pulling from his grip, grunting as he couldn't seem to get the stance to do so. Satan watched the show before him, knowing exactly where Damien's mind was going, and his stomach twisted. "Let go of what, Damien?" he questioned.

"Little bitch won't let go of his precious little mortality," he rolled his eyes. He looked back at Kyle's bewildered expression and shook his head amusedly. "See, you mortals have a little _problem_ ," he drawled slowly, grabbing both his wrists as he tried to attack and holding them between the both of them. "You have a real issue with listening to your betters," he raised his brow. "Demons are automatically programmed to _want_ to follow directives."

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?!" Kyle sneered, trying to break out of his grip. Damien tightened the hold on his face, focus locked on his polychromatic eye.

"We take out the little bit of mortality you have left," he said, slowly dragging his thumb over Kyle's lashes, "And we get you where you need to be: being my obedient little bitch," he grinned maliciously.

Kyle furrowed his brow before the implication hit him all at once. He fearfully pushed Damien off with a burst of power, trying to get away from him. Damien quickly recovered and leapt forward, shoving him against the bookshelf with an arm firmly against his neck. Kyle choked, scratching at the rigid limb as Damien slowly edged his claws towards his face, trailing up to his eye. The demon licked his lips, rearing his finger back and ready to dive straight through his cornea, bristling with excitement at Kyle's immanent scream.

"Damien, wait!" Satan shouted hurriedly, jumping from his chair and slamming his hands on his desk.

The noirette paused, looking back at his father with a quirked brow. "What?"

"Damien, we're too close to the war for you to change him entirely," he frowned. "If you do, he'll be unstable and you won't have as much hold over him. He has a good grasp of his powers, so use him like _that_ before you go ripping his eye out and forcing him to relearn everything in such a quick amount of time."

Damien blinked, looking between him and Kyle's terrified expression flickering between the both of them. The man coughed a bit and kicked out at his legs, the noirette pushing against him harder. "He's too resistant, Pops," he gritted his teeth.

"Not when he's a puppet," he reminded him. "He won't be able to unleash as much power as he can now if his body isn't acclimated. He'll be useless to you against the archangels if you let him get any weaker."

The demon pouted a bit and sighed, "Fine." He brought his arm back, Kyle collapsing down onto the ground, holding his neck and wheezing. "Guess we'll have to play optometry _after_ we kill off your squeeze," he kicked Kyle's leg. The redhead looked up at him, still rasping for breath but glaring as much as he could possibly muster.

"Fuck you," he coughed out.

He smirked, "Didn't realize you wanted a second round." He grinned wider at Kyle's entire body quivering for but a moment before he got himself under control. "Little mouse needs to stop _enticing_ the cat," he drawled, bending a bit and tearing through Kyle's hair, ripping his head back. "You go ahead and learn _all_ the useless spells you want, Little one," he said. "But there's no spell that can change your ownership back to yourself. I guarantee it," he hissed, throwing him back and standing straight once more. "Is that all?" he looked at Satan with a bored expression.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Just go, Damien." He watched the demon reaching down to grab at Kyle and cleared his throat. "Keep Kyle here," he directed, watching his son look at him suspiciously. He shrugged, gesturing around his office and the books Kyle had frantically thrown about. "He made a mess and he's damn well going to clean it up." Damien snorted, stepping back from the redhead and simply sinking down through his portal.

Kyle watched after him before shakily looking back up at the devil himself, finding that pity in his stare again. "That was bullshit," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"What you told him...about me...it was bullshit, wasn't it?" he bit his lip.

He nodded, "Oh. Definitely." He sat back in his chair and sighed, resting his chin in his palm. "Had he gotten your last bit of mortality out, you would've been _completely_ under his control. Luckily he's obsessed enough with winning to not realize I was lying. If he was a bit more clear-minded, he might've seen right through it."

Kyle grabbed onto the bookshelf to aid him back onto his feet and gulped. "Thanks," he whispered again.

Satan stared at the poor boy and curled in his lips, biting on them lightly. "Sit down, Kyle," he gestured to the chairs in front of him. The redhead nodded, slowly making his way over to one and silently taking a seat, staring up at the looming beast with wide eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before he smiled gently. "Kenny told me a _lot_ about you."

"Did he ever mention how much I would hate your son?" he bitterly replied.

Satan chuckled a bit. "I could gather that much on my own." He paused, shaking his head to himself. "I'm sorry," he said, getting a surprised look out of the redhead. "Look, I like Kenny. I really do. He's a great kid, always smiling. He always makes things a little less dreary in this damn place," he waved around the room aimlessly. "It's not fair that he and you are caught in the middle of all this."

"If you like Kenny so much, then why are you fine with killing him?" he demanded.

"I'm not," he raised his brow. "I've wanted to stop the charge for months."

Kyle cocked his head. "Wait, but, don't you control that? If you wanted to put a stop to it-"

"You know how Damien is," he cut him off, the Jew sinking back into the seat silently. "He was going to find a way to make it happen regardless...You and Ken would be getting hurt no matter how he went about it." He tapped a claw on his desk and took a long, heavy sigh. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through these past few months."

Kyle took a deep breath, "Well...I'm not exactly prepared to accept your apology."

He nodded in understanding. "Absolutely. All I'm saying is that...I know what you're going through isn't fair."

He raised his brow, "Any attempts at stopping it would have been _greatly_ appreciated," he drawled, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"I didn't think it'd go this far," he admitted quietly. "I never thought Damien would be so...overrun with this need for power. I never thought he'd push you as far as he did." He let out a deep breath and tapped his claw against his desk again. "He's my fucking son all right," he rolled his eyes.

Kyle bit his lip, looking at him pleadingly. "Don't let him kill Kenny," he begged.

Satan paused, taking a long, steadying breath. "You're the one who needs to be worried about that, Kyle. Damien is sending _you_ out."

"But I don't know how to beat his stupid little trick," he said desperately. "I...I'm completely blacked out until he wakes me up."

He nodded, "Right. You're a full-fledged demon." Kyle stared at him in shock and he shrugged. "He takes on your mortality and you're reduced to nothing more than a killing machine designed for his use," he explained.

"Takes on my mortality?" he raised his brow. "So...he's weaker?" he asked hopefully.

Satan shook his head, "No. All it does is add on to whatever you gave him in the power exchange initially. Given that's had its own annoyances," he scoffed.

"Like what?" he questioned.

He smirked, "You gave him a mere _drop_ of mortality and his defiance got even _more_ extreme."

"He told me he didn't have residual effects," he blinked.

"He didn't lose any part of who he was in the process," he explained. "He only gained what inner qualities your mortality had to offer. Unfortunately, all you offered him was more of an attitude and a disregard for facts," he rolled his eyes. "Being hopeful is one thing, but he's out of hand."

Kyle sat silently, keen mind whirring over the information presented to him. He smiled a bit to himself, nodding curtly before looking back to see Satan staring at him in interest. "What?"

He blinked and smirked lightly. "Just...Kenny was right," he shrugged.

"About?"

"He said you were a stubborn little asshole," he chuckled. Kyle snorted a bit and nodded. That was Kenny's favorite way to describe him, it wasn't overly surprising he'd shared that with Satan.

Kyle's laughter died off a bit and he took a deep breath. "What's going to happen to me if he wins?" he asked softly.

Satan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm not sure," he replied honestly. "Knowing Damien, he'll find somewhere to keep you stashed away under his watch."

He shuddered, skin prickling uneasily. "Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered. "Why me, though?" he questioned blankly.

"Because Damien likes to take control over things that defy him," he shrugged. "If you were a sniveling little coward, he probably would have just kept you locked up."

His shoulders slumped and his eyes dulled over. "My ma told me that my smart mouth was going to get me in trouble someday. I don't think she counted on _this_ being a possibility, though." He sighed defeatedly. "What do I do?"

Satan stared at him intently for a moment before setting his lips in a firm line. "Whatever you're planning with the spells, make it happen." Kyle jerked back in surprise and he shrugged. "Kenny told me how smart you are, I'm sure you accounted for everything Damien told you wouldn't work with them. This war can only end in disaster for either end unless someone figures something out. I have a feeling you're pretty much dead set on what you want to do."

Kyle bit his lip, a part of him afraid to give an answer before stories came flooding back. Kenny had told him about Satan often enough, how he would keep him company or show him things far out of the ordinary for both of them to have something to take them from the humdrum times down below. "If Damien gets a hold of me, I can't make them happen," he said quietly.

Satan nodded solemnly. "All we can do is hope Ken finds a way to get you out I suppose."

He smiled sadly, "I've been hoping that for almost six months. So far it seems that luck isn't on my side."

Satan chuckled, "Well...You're far overdo for a batch of luck. Both of you."

"I'd say you preventing me from losing my eye was pretty lucky," he shrugged sheepishly.

"Not really," he said. "Honestly, I just can't have you completely falling under Damien." Kyle looked up at him confusedly. He took a deep breath, glancing around his office at the discarded books and papers strewn about, shaking his head. "He's creating enough trouble for me, and if you end up under his control...Well, his ego is big enough. Let's just say that."

"He's your son, though," he raised his brow. "And he wants to eliminate your workload. Why are _you_ so against this?"

He shrugged, eyes gleaming over sadly as Kyle watched in befuddlement. "I learned a long-ass time ago that getting what you want isn't always the best thing to happen. Damien hasn't found that out yet...Though you're certainly leading him in that direction." Kyle raised his brow and he smirked. "Keep your head up, Kyle. Between what Kenny's told me about you and how much I watched him worm his way out of trouble throughout the last few years...Damien might have a run for his money."


	45. Brother to Brother

**Behold, how good and how pleasant it is For brothers to dwell together in unity! -** _**Psalm 133:1** _

The feeling was beyond surreal, staring down his lanky blonde opponent. Another force of light to spar with; Another guide that he was to be entrusted with showing the way into the thrall. Michael shuddered a bit, slowly taking out Triumph and rubbing his thumb over the straight, pearl line running up the hilt. Straight and true, set on his one path to aid God. That's what he'd been for all these eons. He could feel the other six staring at them from above, waiting to see the show between their two strongest fighters. Michael took a deep breath, trying to ready himself from the possibility of light bringing about memories that would freeze him in his place.

Kenny watched him curiously from across the arena, hopping from foot to foot to loosen himself up. He rested Resurrection on his shoulder. He was feeling better, feeling airy almost. Buckling his emotions down had taken a few days, but it wasn't overly difficult with his fellow angels smiling at him, encouraging him, having him tell stories about Kyle that would make him happy again. He smiled to himself slightly. Aside from Kyle, Stan, and Cartman, he'd had so few friends in his lifetime. The night before, the eight of them had all sat around drinking wine and teasing each other, trying to rest their minds for the battle that was approaching at a steadfast pace. It felt like a true camaraderie for the first time, like they were _brothers._

The blonde frowned a bit in sympathy at the thought of the word, knowing just what he was doing to Michael and wondering vaguely if he should skip the power and go straight for bashing his face repeatedly. It was not as though he were a stranger to the 'rough 'em up' methodology.

"Come on!" Selaphiel called down teasingly, seeing Michael looking a little too distraught for all their tastes. "You women waiting for your nails to dry?"

"Up yers!" Kenny called back, flipping him off. "My nails are beautiful without the make up. Wish ya could say the same 'bout yer ugly mug, but God ain't so kind to everyone I s'pose."

Michael shook his head and chuckled lightly under the sound of the other angels chortling from above, tapping Triumph against the ground. He glanced up at Kenny and smirked. "Wanna give 'em a show?"

"I'm just sayin', I say that to Kyle when I wanna blow him in public. So, please, I'm a taken man, Mikey," he winked.

The brunette rolled his eyes, raising his blade and watching as Kenny matched his stance, their eyes locked in one another's. "No holding back," he directed.

"Oh, I wasn't planning on it," he smirked. "Been wantin' to punch you in the face since the day ya came to get me."

Michael snorted, the both of them beginning to circle around each other, each leaning forward just a tad now and again; The alphas baring their teeth, ready to swoop in for the right to the title. "Really?" he quirked his brow expectantly. "Why? Because I was giving you actual responsibility for once?"

"Yeah, pretty much," he shrugged, quickly doing a fake-out jump, smirking at Michael flinching in preparedness. "I ain't one for takin' responsibilities for my actions. I always have a scapegoat."

"That's not gonna fly here," he said, returning the teasing movement. "You're the king of the sinners in this realm, no one would believe that anyone else caused any trouble."

He snorted, giving him another wink. "King of the sinners only 'cause I know how to live so well. Besides, sinners tend to work out more," he cocked his brow, leaping forward and slashing towards Michael's hip. The angel grinned, pivoting and swinging upright to meet with him, nearly sending Resurrection crashing back into Kenny's face. The man twisted with the hit, letting his body twirl itself around off of the opposing sword towards Michael's back. Ken let his blade fly down towards the small of his spine, Michael pushing himself forward and twisting Triumph back to meet once again. They jumped back from each other, each of them twirling their swords in their hands casually as they continued to stare each other down.

"Your technique is still awfully sloppy," Michael taunted.

"Hm, then what's that say about you since you haven't hit me yet?" he shot back.

He shrugged, "Well, I like to go easy when I'm 'playing' sword fight with children."

"Ay, I'm more of a man than you, Buddy," he scoffed, flipping bangs out of his eyes. "I wasn't made like a doll...Though I guess I do look like one," he batted his lashes.

Michael rolled his eyes before propelling himself forward, striking down brutally against Kenny's weapon. He watched the blonde's face as he beat off each attack, the concentration and the overall composure he exuded. He smiled approvingly before falling into a devious smirk. He twisted himself in the air, Kenny only catching the briefest glimpse of movement as the angel's leg struck his arm. He flew to the side a bit, landing on his palm and knuckles holding his sword and flapping his wings, flipping over and pivoting as he hit the ground, matching another slam from Triumph in the nick of time. He tongued over his lips, twirling out of the way and his eyes gleaming over. Michael's eyes widened as his light sparked between them, sending the brunette back a good ten feet.

He shook himself out of a momentary stupor and Kenny's face fell concernedly, inwardly cursing himself. "Dude, sorry. You all right?"

He grinned, "I told you not to hold back, Ken. Pity for your opponents is God's duty, not yours," he declared, cracking his neck and resuming his stance.

Kenny smirked and shrugged, "Well, all right then. I mean, I didn't wanna hurt you, old man but if that's how you wanna play, then by all means," he gestured aimlessly in the air.

"I'm still waiting for you to start the game," he drawled, brown eyes sparkling with challenge. The blonde chuckled, irises shimmering once more like raindrops as he pushed towards the elder yet again.

The angels above watched them curiously, small grins on all their faces. "It's almost scary how similar it is, isn't it?" Gabriel murmured.

"Yeah," Jegudiel agreed. "They're beautifully matched it seems."

"Well they only just _started_ ," Uriel rolled his eyes.

Selaphiel snorted, "None of _us_ would've lasted this long against Michael." The group nodded in a agreement, Uriel reluctantly following suit. It was true, Michael could usually take the upper hand in a matter of moments against any of them. With Kenny, however, he seemed to actually have to work for his success, but the blonde seemed just as determined to get the lead himself.

"They're both magnificently skilled." They turned to see God and Jesus approaching them with smiles, looking down over the ledge curiously at their finest, watching them hopping and spinning around each other with an almost nonchalant air about them. Jesus nodded approvingly, "Kenny seems to have excellent control over his light." As though on cue, a bright flash flooded the arena, Michael stumbling back once more. He quickly recovered, flying overtop of Kenny and coming to stab at him from above. Ken leaped out of the way, catching his awkward footing and automatically putting his strong foot back.

Raphael smiled, "It is amazing, isn't it? How quickly he mastered so much."

God smirked lightly, "When you're fighting for something of importance, you put your all into it. You all thought he was goofing off all the time, but what kind of man screwing around can pull off this?" He gestured down into the space.

Barachiel shrugged, "Well, he _is_ a goof off."

"Yes, and he's lightened you all up considerably," Jesus rolled his eyes amusedly. "When word of the war spread, you were all as miserable as Uriel," he gestured towards him a bit, winking as the angel pouted at him.

Selaphiel chuckled, "That's true. But it's such a grave matter, it was hard to think of anything but a body count."

"Well, luckily Kenneth was here to set you straight," God teased the lot of them. "Rigid soldiers are no good," He reminded them. "You need to be flowing so you can ebb through your opponent to strike him down."

Gabriel nodded, "Easy to think that way now, but when the battle actually comes, it may be different. War changes everything."

He shook His head. "War changes nothing of importance." They all looked at Him as He continued watching Kenny and Michael clashing against one another, Resurrection and Triumph gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight above them. "Sure, leaders will shift and lands will be thrown into chaos," He shrugged. "But the people, the ones that remain, stay the same. Goals themselves may alter, but the determination will not. Their souls will stay as they were before the battle is even fought, regardless of the outcome."

"Not in this war," Raphael said softly. "Seems to me like every soul is on the line here."

God sighed. "No. Only one is subject to change. Hopefully, however, my theory is true." The group looked at each other with saddened eyes before turning back to the men below.

"Come on, Mike!" Kenny called out as they stood across from each other, breathing a bit more labored, but still having those strong-willed wits about them. "Thought you were the _leader_ ," he mocked.

He shook his head and chuckled, "Actually _you're_ supposed to be leading if you recall. I'd appreciate it if you started at least _acting_ like you have some shred of authority in all this."

Kenny smirked, pushing back towards the man. He glanced to Michael's left side, the angel raising his brow. Movement flickered through his peripheral and he glanced over to see Kenny's light sparking beside him. He raised Triumph in defense, looking for Kenny in the mess before feeling a light tap on his arm. He looked as the brightness faded to see Resurrection placed against his elbow and a victorious smirk from the cocky blonde. "Gotcha," he sang.

Michael blinked at him before breaking into a grin. "That you did," he leapt back, placing his 'injured' arm behind his back. "But now you have _all_ my focus," he said smoothly.

"And you have one arm," he raised his brow snobbishly. "You think I have a problem with punching a crippled man? Because you'd be sorely mistaken."

He shook his head, "That's horrible, Ken."

The blonde shrugged, spinning Resurrection about in his hand, letting its weight guide him through the motions smoothly. "Look, once this guy in a wheelchair grabbed Kyle's ass, and I broke his nose, okay? If yer mentally well, then hell _no_ I don't mind beatin' the shit out of you."

The brunette laughed softly, grasping around his belt behind his back to keep his hand in place. "All right, c'mon then," he jerked his head back and tossed Triumph in the air a bit, catching the hilt with a heavy smack against his palm.

"Your funeral," he shrugged. He grunted, moving towards him in a blinding speed. Michael bent his legs and leapt up, wings propelling him a good thirty feet. Kenny followed after him, swinging at his legs and trying to circle around to his backside. Michael twisted onto his back, flying backwards and watching as Kenny came up overtop of him. Their blades slammed against each other in a steady, grating rhythm as they effortlessly soared about.

"Okay, they're just showing off at this point," Selaphiel sniggered. The others nodded silently, watching amusedly as the two of them circled around the arena, dipping and raising time and again to keep together.

"C'mon, ya pussy," Kenny dared. "You gonna fight or play defense all fuckin' day?"

The brunette raised his brow amusedly, pushing himself back up and hovering in front of the man. "You're awfully confident, aren't you?"

"Yeah, gotta problem with someone bein' a man?" he drawled. He swooped upwards, eyes shimmering as he raised Resurrection above his head, coming towards him with a heavy downwards swing, his blade enveloped in white. Michael met his attack, wincing at the heat radiating onto Triumph and gritting his teeth. His palm began to sear, Kenny watching with a smug grin as he continued to push him downwards. Michael bent his lower half up, pressing a foot against Kenny's thigh and using him for leverage to quickly push himself away from the assault. Kenny tried to regain his skewed balance and Michael swung himself to the side, slamming Triumph into Kenny's thigh.

He looked up at the blonde pompously, who pouted. "Looks like you lost a leg," he commented.

"Don't need one for this," he shot back, eyes going translucent. Michael tried backing away as Kenny pushed himself higher before turning back down, going in for a dive bomb against him. Kenny held out his hand towards him, his light slamming into Michael and taking him down at Kenny's speed without the blonde laying a finger on him. He gritted his teeth as he was thrown to the ground on his back, Kenny coming in for the kill. He reared Triumph back, thrusting it upwards, feeling contact with skin as soon as Resurrection touched his throat.

He glanced up, seeing his blade resting against the side of Kenny's neck and he chuckled breathlessly. "I suppose we're both dead," he quirked his brow.

Kenny smiled, taking Resurrection back and holding out his hand, helping the elder back onto his feet. "So, do I pass?" he asked teasingly.

He nodded, shaking out his burnt hand, "You pass." He watched amusedly as Kenny bounced a bit in pride, relieved to see that childishness flowing through the blonde once again. If he could keep himself this relaxed with Damien, or at least _close_ to it, then he had a much better shot at taking the monster down.

They both looked over as the group from above came swooping down, landing in front of them with smirks across the lot. "That was the best match we've seen in a _long_ time," Gabriel smirked.

"Your pride holding up there okay, Michael?" Jegudiel teased.

The brunette snorted, "So long as I remain stronger than _you_ , then I'll always have my pride. The minute you get the upper hand is the moment I bash my head repeatedly against a wall."

God shook His head amusedly, looking at Kenny who was looking around at the group with a small smile over his face, his eyes glittering a bit. "How do you feel, Kenneth?" He asked.

The blonde turned his attention down to him, shrugging sheepishly. "Well, I...I actually feel...pretty good, believe it or not," he admitted softly. "I don't know, I feel like we have a chance now for some reason."

"Because going against someone of your equal power shows how strong you've become," Jesus said cordially. "You have a good chance at victory, you always have. But this bout showed you just how far you've come."

Kenny blushed a bit, awkwardly fiddling with his hilt and clearing his throat. "Well...yeah, okay," he muttered out quickly, avoiding eye contact.

Michael smiled, clapping his hand against Kenny's back and looking at the lot before him, taking a deep breath as he returned Triumph to its sheath. "We've done what we can," he announced. "Damien will be storming our gates soon, and we're as ready for him as we can possibly be. Our soldiers have been instructed of their positions..." he looked down at the blonde staring at him with full attention. "They've also been informed that they are not to touch Kyle," he assured him, getting a small, grateful smile from the man. He quirked his brow and shook him. "You're leader, say something," he gestured.

Kenny blinked. "Uhh...go...team?" he winced. Michael snickered under his breath, oofing as Kenny slammed his elbow back into his ribs with a pout. "Look, I don't know," he sighed tiredly. "Mike's better at this shit than me. All I want is to cut off that fucker's head."

"We know, but how do you wish to go about it?" Barachiel urged.

Ken bit his lip in thought. "Well, we know one thing: Damien's going to have Kyle trussed up like a fucking Christmas turkey," he rolled his eyes. "If all his attention is on Ky, he's probably going to have a group of demons surrounding him to keep himself from being attacked."

"Right, that makes sense," Raphael nodded in agreement. "What do you propose then?"

"Can we spare some of the soldiers from their positions to take out the ones surrounding him?" he asked Michael, looking up at the brunette with a raised brow. "I have no idea how many are going to be defending him, but probably more than we can spare, I'm sure."

He nodded slowly, licking over his lips in thought. "Good idea," he murmured, smirking at a glitter passing through his irises at the compliment. "We'll divide our squadrons into teams to go for Damien's defense. His offense will probably start off weak in the beginning, so we won't need as many at the very forefront."

"And ourselves?" Uriel questioned, gesturing around the group.

Everyone turned to Kenny, who quirked his lips. "We know that Damien's going to be wanting me and me alone for now. We should split the rest of you up between the two separate teams," he glanced around. "Taking Damien down is our main objective, right?" he asked, getting confirmation nods from the group. "Then four of you should be working an assault on the defense, the remaining three taking down or at least stalling the ones that'll probably just be trying to cause chaos," he rolled his eyes.

Michael nodded in agreement. "Myself, Barachiel, Gabriel, and Uriel will take on the defense," he offered. "Aside from yourself, we're the stronger."

"And more suited for offense," Kenny noted as well. "Between Raph's healing, Jay's instruction, and Sel's chain, they should be able to better hold off a full frontal assault on Paradise," he gestured up aimlessly. "At least better than the rest of you, since you can really only hit one person at a time." He looked at Raphael and smirked, "Besides, you always keep the healer with the larger group."

He snorted, "I feel discriminated against. That is spiritual profiling."

"I ain't exactly politically correct, so deal with it," he raised his brow teasingly. He took a deep breath, sheathing Resurrection and crossing his arms. "And I guess _my_ main focus is going to have to be Kyle if things go the way we think they will."

"What do you plan to do if he's turned?" Jegudiel questioned softly.

He shrugged, tucking some hair behind his ear. "Play defense until I can figure out a way to get him back to himself. Won't lie, I'm hoping that he'll see me and just automatically snap out of it. Our love exceeding the powers of Heaven and Hell or something else that makes me more of a homo," he waved his hands dramatically.

"As if that's possible," Selaphiel rolled his eyes. Kenny flipped him off with a snort, everyone looking down as God began to speak.

"I'm sure there's some way to break him out of it, Kenneth," He assured him. "And if anyone can figure it out, it's you."

He sighed, "Okay, so I dunno if you noticed, but I'm _not_ super bright."

The deity chuckled, "But no one knows Kyle better than yourself. And out of us, no one knows _Damien_ better, either."

"Except now Kyle's a different species and Damien's lost his goddamn mind," he frowned.

Michael patted his shoulder, "It doesn't matter. You'll figure it out, and we'll be there to help you."

"Thanks," he said gratefully, taking a long, cleansing breath. "I just hope this goes the way we want it to."

"We all do," Raphael shrugged. "But for now...all we can do is wait for Damien to make his move." Each of them simultaneously glanced up out of the arena, in the direction of the pearled gates. A long, monotonous sigh passed over all of them, chests and hearts tightening in anticipation. Time was coming towards them so quickly, every ounce of what they'd worked for was about to be put to the ultimate test. They stayed firm and strong, however; United for their common and separate goals alike. As a brotherhood, they were ready to take on whatever Damien had to offer them together. And even as separate entities, they knew the others were right there, ready and willing to catch them should they fall.


	46. Creating Armies on Either Shore

**After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. -** _**Revelation 7:9** _

The air was far too tensive, too still for Kyle to be able to think anything else: It was starting.

He took a shuddery breath, crossing his arms and looking over at Pip and Valefor as they stared off into the distance, even the both of them able to sense that the atmosphere had taken a pernicious turn. "Kyle, what's going on?" Pip asked nervously.

Kyle bit his lip, grating it worriedly. "He's getting them ready," he said quietly, honing in on Damien's energy. It was moving about, and he could just _feel_ the anticipation; the pure thrill and authority spawning from the demon. He gulped, digging his claws lightly into his arm and shaking his head. His stomach was an absolute brick, his chest tightened, and his throat trying to close itself off. He closed his eyes for a moment, seeing Kenny flashing through and saying another prayer. Kenny had to know what to do, he _had to_.

He opened his vision once again and glanced over at the frightened blonde. He sighed, gently touching his arm to get his attention. "Pip," he said sternly, the man looking at him with wide, brown eyes. "Do you have everything that I told you to get?"

He nodded briskly. "Yes. But what good are they with me?"

Kyle turned to face him, staring at him with a seriousness that sent chills cascading down the Brit's spine. "Because Ican't risk having them with me less Damien find them," he said firmly. "I need you to be _sure_ you have everything, am I clear?"

Pip blinked, nodding once again. Kyle was breaking into his authoritative voice, the one he used only on demons he needed to do a task for him. It worried him. Kyle noticed the panic over his eyes, forcing himself to relax a bit and ease Pip's tenseness. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "Look, it's just..."

"Important," he finished. "I know, Kyle. I know. Just, please, remember that you're not like him. All right?" he pleaded.

Kyle looked up at him with a sad smile, "Like you said, there's more of him in me than I accounted for. Personality or otherwise."

He grasped the redhead's arm, biting his lip. "But you're still...?" he looked at him, brows raised expectantly.

"Kyle," he breathed out exhaustedly. "I just hope I realize that before it's too late," he looked up at the sky, swallowing a dry breath. He could just feel all the worry leaking down through the separate planes. Every angel, every demon, every unknowing mortal was on the line here. He shuddered, knowing well enough that he could be the one that tipped the balance towards either favor depending on how things went.

Valefor scooted over beside him, feeling his anxiety and leaning against his leg. Kyle looked down at him and gave him a small smile, kneeling down in front of the dog. He scratched lightly behind his ear, getting a small lick on the nose. "I know Damien won't let me take you up there with me," he muttered. He let out a deep sigh, leaning his forehead against the dog's, rubbing his thumb over his face in soothing circles. "I'll do what I can, okay?" he promised. Valefor bumped him with his muzzle a couple times and he smirked, leaning back off of him.

He flinched, shooting his head over as he felt that energy coming closer at a rapid pace. "He's coming for me," he whispered, getting to his feet and gulping.

Pip grabbed his arm once more, "Kyle, what are you going to-"

"Go back to the cave and do _not_ leave there, do you understand?" he said sharply.

"But what about-"

" **Pip** ," he snapped, red eyes flickering to him. "You and Valefor are to stay there until I get you, _do you understand_?" he repeated.

He nodded slowly, gently grasping the scruff of Valefor's neck. "Please, be careful," he whispered, backing off and leading the dog back towards the cave, unable to take his eyes off of the tautly wound redhead. Kyle looked ready to pounce; Ready to fight Damien to the bitter end to keep from his plans. The blonde gulped as they entered through the doorway into the prison. He flinched as something flew up against the archway, a glowing shield of red. Pip cocked his head before blinking in surprise at the familiarity of the cellophane coating before him. Kyle had used this spell on him not a few days ago to see how well it worked with things other than books. It was his cloaking incantation. He was hiding the doorway from stray demons.

The blonde couldn't help but smile sadly and gratefully all at once, looking through the distorted shield to see Kyle standing there firmly, waiting for his captor to get to him. "Good luck," he murmured hopefully, placing a hand on Valefor's head as the dog sat next to him, fidgeting and whimpering.

Kyle's eyes stayed locked on the direction of Damien's presence, narrowing his eyes as his portal appeared before him. He took a deep breath and held it as Damien slowly rose through the ground, eyes locking into one another's automatically. A sick grin crawled up Damien's face. "Well," he cooed. "Looks like you're ready to go."

"I'm not going," he snarled, clenching his fists.

"Adorable," Damien rolled his eyes. "But I don't have _time_ for you to be your usual stubborn self, Little one. Either you come quietly and obediently or you _know_ I can make you."

Kyle sneered, backing away from him and tensing himself for the inevitable attack. "I'm **not** going," he repeated firmly.

Damien smirked, "Yes, I figured you would behave so poorly. So I had my weaponry sect whip up a few special somethings just for you." Kyle looked at him suspiciously and he chuckled. "Took weeks, you know," he commented off-handedly. "Took a lot of your blood to make it work, but I gathered plenty in the alloted time."

"Stay the fuck away from me," he warned, eyes beginning to spark with fire.

Damien shook his head amusedly and sighed contentedly. "Ah, Little mouse, I'm just so _glad_ you're such a strong-headed bitch." Kyle growled and he laughed quietly. "It makes it so much more fun to push you down," he broke into a wild grin, leaping forward and crashing against the man.

Kyle yelped, falling onto his back on the ground with Damien's hands wrapped tightly around his wrists. He let out a scream, a burst between them pushing Damien upwards, the grip around his arms taking him with him as he flew back. Damien quickly threw him back to the ground on his stomach while he was in his daze, forcing his wrists to the small of his spine. Kyle snarled as he felt metal snapping around his wrists. "You think your little fucking chains can-" he stopped as a cloth reeking of brimstone and blood was shoved into his mouth and tied around his head, breathing angrily through his nose and thrusting around under Damien's hips.

"Familiar, isn't it?" he cocked his brow amusedly, getting to his feet. He watched Kyle falling through rage into bewilderment as he couldn't break his chains, despite his power being utilized. "Just like when we first came down here," he cooed, reaching down and pinching his cheek. Kyle groaned, shaking his hand away and backing up on his knees, pupils pinpoints with that fury that Damien had certainly grown a fondness for bringing out. "They're made from _you_ ," he explained. "They'll match your strength bit by bit, like your own skin," he shrugged, folding his hands casually. "You're only getting out of them when _I_ let you out."

Kyle screamed past the gag as his fangs dug in, wincing as Damien grabbed his hair and ripped him onto his feet. "Come on then. We'll send the army first and then you'll be all set to be the main star, ready for your big debut to McCormick's last day" he purred, holding his panicked, bristling body close as they began their descent through one of his blackened, stifling portals.

* * *

Kenny held the armor in his hand, turning it a bit and cocking his brow. "Dude, demon claws will go right through this," he said dryly, holding the chest plate and shaking it for the other archangels.

Gabriel shrugged, "Would you rather have _some_ chance of protection or none at all?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look, ya can't stay light on your feet wearin' this crap," he insisted.

"Then don't fucking wear it and get your belly slashed open," Selaphiel scoffed.

"Kenneth, just put it on," Uriel groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Kenny pouted, letting out a whiny groan. He begrudgingly slipped it over his head, awkwardly moving his wings to fall into the designated slits up through the dully gleaming iron. The others watched him, shaking their heads as he began cursing up a storm as a feather caught in a fold. Raphael moved towards him, assisting him in letting it slide down his body and fasten it tightly at his side with small latches. "I know it's not the most comfortable thing," he said quietly, "But it _will_ help you a bit."

"Until someone cuts it off of me," he replied dryly, grabbing his sheath and attaching it around his waist yet again.

"That's one more hit that _you_ have then," Michael said firmly. "Just accept it, Ken."

He frowned, "Fine. But I ain't happy about it."

"And yet, no one cares," Selaphiel raised his brow teasingly as they made their way out of the preparation area, heading out towards their soldiers readying themselves as well.

Kenny let out a long breath at the stretch of armor-clad angels, seeing far too many nervous faces for his tastes. Then again, he knew he couldn't be one to judge. He probably wasn't looking much better himself. "This sucks," he murmured quietly.

"Pretty much," Barachiel shrugged dismissively. "But, our odds are good," he reminded him. "We have a good chance."

He nodded, tonguing over his lips. "Where are God and Jesus?" he asked.

"Observing from His domain," Jegudiel answered. "He's the main target so He stays hidden."

Kenny rolled his eyes, "I gotta tell ya, I feel like _I'm_ the main goddamn target right now." They all nodded solemnly, not even able to tell him that he was wrong. Damien had been plotting against _him_ the entire time, after all. But even Kenny knew, he was just the first domino in the chain. Unless he fell and began the break, it would be an untouched waste of time in the end.

"Sirs!" a soldier called, flying towards them rapidly. "They're at the gates!" The men all looked between each other before quickly hopping up and taking flight, swiftly zooming overhead of their soldiers. They could feel the worried, tensed expressions on each face, the hope that the men carried that their leaders would lead them through the thrall unscathed, leave their home as pristine as it always had been.

They finally found themselves at the forefront of the soldiers, facing Saint Peter's gate. The old man backed up beside them, all their eyes blown wide as demons and a few sparse broken mortals rose through the clouds on the other side, glaring at their heavenly opponents viciously.

"Peter," Michael said, touching the man's arm without breaking eye contact from the army forging in front of them. "Go to God, stay with Him," he directed. Peter looked at him in protest for but a moment before recognizing that stoney flash through his eyes. He nodded.

"Good luck, boys," he said kindly, hopping up and flying off to where he was directed.

Kenny's eyes scanned through the crowd, landing on any sign of red in a vain hope. He sighed. He knew well enough that Damien would have Kyle with him. He gulped, hand falling onto Resurrection's hilt, feeling the metal calling to him; Readying itself to sing praises of blood and victory. He shuddered, wondering just how much blood would stain the clouds, if Earth would be experiencing a grotesque sailor's night.

"You all right?" Raphael asked.

"Fine," he muttered. It was true. The nerves were shoved down, replaced with a vision of every demon he watched popping through the clouds like grains of wheat losing their head, begging for forgiveness before being sent back down into the fiery pit. He tongued over his lips, leg bouncing anxiously as he waited to see just what he was up against.

His answer came all at once, a loud crash and burst of red light beaming through the crowds as Peter's gates tore at the hinges and flew off in separate directions. The archangels stiffened themselves, holding their hands against the front of their soldiers to quell their growing fears. They had to be ready. They _all_ had to be ready.

Staring down the vast crowd stretching far into the horizon, skin began to prickle, knuckles tightening around various weapons. The numbers may have been told, but no mere collection of numerics could truly represent what a sight it was to behold. The opposition seemed to span into eternity, making every individual on either side all of a sudden feel so _very_ small.

The idea of insignificance vanished, however, as a lone black portal ebbed in the clouds between the groups and noise dropped all at once from both ends. Kenny growled under his breath, knowing that damn shadow anywhere. He watched, heart clenching as Damien rose through, claws gripped tightly in a bound Kyle's hair.

The redhead blinked rapidly at the sunlight, not used to such brightness anymore. He creaked his eyes open slowly, the ruby glistening in a cruel, ironic beauty. He scanned the crowd, finding Kenny right away, standing straight across from him in silence.

Everything in the plane seemed to stop in that moment as they locked gazes for the first time in so long. Every ounce of hurt, pain, fear, and worry rushed out, dripping through the clouds. Kenny stared straight into those unnatural eyes, strangely calmed by the familiar gaze of love that fell into them automatically. Kyle blinked, Kenny's physique changed entirely and throwing him off. He was tanned by the constant light, arms toned under his armor, a strong demeanor about him that he'd never associated with his emotional, playful fiancé before. He was relieved to find him standing so tall, knowing that Satan was right from Kenny's posture alone; They had a _chance_.

Damien noticed their hopeful staring and smirked, shoving Kyle down onto his knees with a groan. Kenny broke from staring at Kyle's tired face up to the demon and bared his teeth. "Damien, you need to _stop_ ," he demanded.

He quirked his brow, "Oh? Do I? And why is that?"

"You have absolutely no reason to fight anymore, Damien," Michael declared strongly, voice echoing over the countless warriors. "You know as well as we do that your army doesn't stand a chance."

He chuckled, lightly playing with Kyle's hair and watching Kenny's face fall darker, nearly quaking with vigor. "Seems to me as though I have everything I need to win," he tapped Kyle's head pointedly. Kyle growled, trying to make a break for it and getting yanked back beside the noirette. "But I'm a generous demon," he purred, "So...I'll give you a little offer..." he smirked viciously at Kenny. "You give up and hand over God and your little bitch goes free."

Kenny gritted his teeth. "I'm not an idiot," he hissed. "Even if I _did_ accept, you'd find a way to take him anyway!"

He raised his brow and shrugged, "Well you can never say that I didn't offer," he said smoothly. "But since you want so _badly_ to play hardball, I suppose the kind thing to do would be to oblige, hm?" he grinned. He ripped Kyle back onto his feet, the redhead shouting angrily as Damien tore through his shirt and threw it off his skinny frame, Kenny's heart dropping at the sight of the malnourished body before him.

"Stay strong," Michael whispered, gripping his shoulder.

Kenny stood perfectly still, ignoring the words as Damien grinned at him slyly, a hungry gleam over his eyes as he held Kyle by the back of the neck, containing his thrashing and muffled screaming. "Last chance, McCormick," he warned. "Or this is the last time you'll see your pretty little bitch before he claws you open himself," fangs bared savagely. Kenny stayed silent, lip subtly trembling, and the demon chuckled, keeping his eyes locked on the man. "Well, Little mouse, guess your prayers won't be answered," he said in an oily voice, running his thumb along the side of Kyle's throat. He pushed the man in front of him, keeping his hold locked down on his skin.

Kenny bristled with Kyle as Damien leaned over his shoulder, slamming his hand onto his back and tearing out the bloodied veins, dripping deep maroon down his clean skin and the pure clouds. Kyle shut his eyes in pain and whimpered, trying to shut off his hearing as Damien's breath washed over his ear. "See him there?" he cooed, reaching with his free hand and shaking Kyle's chin to get his teary eyes back open. "See him? The _love of your life_?" he drawled. He reached up, ripping off Kyle's gag.

"Ken-" he croaked out before a clawed hand slapped over his mouth, every ounce of attention leaning on the two of them as Kyle struggled against the hold, shaking his head in trepidation.

Damien's lips curled into a delicious smirk, fingers winding along various veins and feeling the pulsing running between the both of them. He took a shuddery breath, committing this image to memory. Kenny's distraught face and hand on his sword. Both armies waiting nervously for the battle to begin. Kyle held under his hand so prettily, his little doll just _waiting_ for him. He tongued over his lips, grazing Kyle's ear with his fangs and feeling the man's hair standing on end against his face, hearing Kenny's growling and watching his eyes beginning to glow iridescently. " _Kill him._ "


	47. Turning Man Against His Brother

**For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places -** _**Ephesians 6:12** _

The silence between the two armies was stifling, every hand shakily placed upon a weapon, waiting for word to move. The leaders, however, couldn't be bothered with such irrelevance, all of them locked solely on the tiny redhead.

Kenny's entire body froze as Kyle's eyes dulled over and Damien slid his hand off his mouth. A few seconds of silence passed before Kyle's sight locked on Kenny; honing in and narrowing his eyes viciously. He snarled, baring his fangs and moving to rush towards him, stopped only by Damien's hand around his chains. He thrashed savagely, shoulders jerking as he tried to break from the hold and get to his target. Kenny's jaw trembled, never seeing such _hate_ on the man's slender face.

"Look at him," Damien hissed, eyes glittering with mischief as he struggled to hold the small demon back. "Look at how much he wants you _dead_ ," he smirked smugly at the blonde.

Kenny looked between him and his fiancé, taking a shaking breath and releasing Resurrection from its sheath. He flickered his eyes to Michael and bit his lip. "If I get them away, can you keep the others away from us?" he muttered under Kyle's animalistic gnarling.

He nodded curtly, "We'll do our best...Good luck."

Kenny stepped back a bit, Kyle's thrashing becoming more desperate by the second. The blonde swiftly pivoted on his heel, taking flight over the crowd of angel soldiers. Damien grinned widely. "Oh, this'll be _fun_ ," he purred. He quickly clenched his fist around the restraints on Kyle's wrists to release their hold, the redhead instantly breaking forward and leaping towards the crowd.

"SCATTER! No one touch Kyle!" Michael shouted. Damien grinned, seeing his path as Kyle made it and quickly following after the speeding redhead as he bounded through the bodies on the demon's leash.

"GO!" Damien shouted to his army, his free hand rushing with power and forcing opposers out of his way to follow his little bloodhound. The both of them sped through, swiping at anyone in their way. Damien looked as Kyle let out an angry scream, claws slashing through a throat and coating his fingers as they continued along. He chuckled, eyes glowing darkly. Kyle wasn't going to stop at anything to get Kenny's head, and he was more than willing to help him achieve said goal. His back arched and he shuddered, feeling the skin deliciously ripping from his shoulder blades. Angels swarmed around him, thrown back as large, black wings sprang from his sides and he rocketed forward, easily tossing people out of his path to get to Kyle again.

Michael watched him with a sneer for a moment, turning as a large, resounding cry came from the demons across the way. "No one let them through!" he screamed. "Keep them at our border!" The sound of each archangel sliding their swords out echoed into the air under the stampede coming towards them, the seven of them taking flight and hovering above, motioning their own soldiers forward straight into the thrall.

Damien swept down into the chaos of angels rushing ahead and grasped Kyle around his slender waist, tugging him from the crowd. Kyle snarled, fidgeting in his grip to get to Kenny, claws swiping along angrily as he hung from the demon's grip. "Patience," he hiked him up against his chest and murmured in his ear. "You'll taste his blood soon, Little mouse. I promise."

* * *

 

Kenny wasn't entirely sure where to fly towards. He had to keep away from the city, had to stay clear away from God's domain. He grunted, making a sharp left turn over towards the arena, soaring overhead and to the other side where clouds laid barren. His ears perked at the sound of growling, turning and flying on his back as he looked down, seeing Damien flying towards him expeditiously with a very anxious, angry Kyle in his grasp. Kenny huffed furiously, making his way down and hitting the clouds with his right foot, sliding to a stop and holding his sword defensively pointed towards the both of them.

Damien smirked, dropping Kyle from his grip and watching him land in a crouch, eyes flickering up to the stumped blonde and baring his fangs. He let out an angry shout, rushing towards him, claws bared for his throat. Ken nearly froze before shaking himself out of his stupor and quickly jumping to the side. He yelped as Kyle landed, fluidly turning and grabbing his leg, digging straight into his flesh.

Without thinking, he slammed his other foot into Kyle's stomach, sending him flying back and rolling on the ground. He nearly panicked at what he'd done before taking a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't get overly defensive of the man. He'd _have_ to keep Kyle off of him one way or the other or they were _both_ screwed.

Kyle hopped back up, eyes glowing brightly. Kenny flinched as a wave of power burst into him, sending him flying onto his back. He opened his eyes to see Kyle making his way to dive bomb onto him, pressing Resurrection against the clouds and using it to propel himself back upwards. He shot a glance at Damien standing at a distance, watching the show amusedly.

He'd have to get Damien down if he wanted to get to Kyle, there was no way around it.

As soon as his foot touched ground again, he surged towards the demon, raising Resurrection with an angry scream and his eyes glossing over. Damien merely grinned as Kenny came within three feet of him and swung downwards. The blonde couldn't stop himself fast enough as Kyle suddenly hopped between them, raising his arm and taking the hit on his shoulder. Kenny's eyes widened as Kyle's blood spurted from the wound, his jaw trembling. He quickly touched back down and launched himself backwards from the man, staring in horror at the mess he'd made.

The first blood he'd taken was fucking _Kyle's_. He felt sick, watching as the redhead straightened himself up, not seeming bothered by the gaping wound riding the slope of his skin. Kenny stared at the unusual coloring of his blood staining his blade, the dark red sliding down the metal like merlot.

Damien reached forward, petting Kyle's hair. "He won't let his _master_ get hurt," he smirked.

Kenny gritted his teeth, eyes blazing. "Fight me _yourself_ ," he demanded. "Don't fucking hide behind Kyle!"

He shrugged, "I'm not hiding. He just wants to protect me, and who am I to tell him no?" he raised his brow tauntingly. He flexed his fingers holding Kyle's strings, launching the man forward once more. Kenny flew himself back, trying to keep out of the redhead's reach as he swiped at him time and again. He turned Resurrection flat against his palm, Kyle's claws scraping against it in a horrific rhythm as he deflected his strikes.

"Kyle, please!" he begged. He hissed as Kyle grabbed the sword, the edge slicing though the muscle of his palm as he tried to aim for Kenny's face. The man grabbed his wrist, wincing at the strength the smaller man exuded. "Wake up!" he pleaded, Kyle's power bringing him crashing down onto the ground on his knees, managing to drop Resurrection and grab his other wrist as well. He grunted as Kyle's eyes burst with light, his power slamming against him. He kept his grip tight, refusing to let go of him. "Kyle!" he screamed again.

The redhead sneered, diving down and snaring Kenny's forearm in his fangs, digging down into the tissue and shaking like a wild beast. The blonde screamed, tears beading his eyes as his arm was torn to shreds. Fangs scraped against the bone, reverberating nauseatingly throughout his body. His grip loosened in the slightest on his right wrist and Kyle ripped from his hold. Kenny ducked down as he came after his head once more, Kyle changing his direction and slamming straight down into his armor, easily breaking through it and delving down into the shoulder blade behind his wing. Kenny screeched as he rived through his skin, his fingers digging into his muscles. Kyle caught a string of latches in his path, the armor snapping open, clattering down beneath him as the man struggled to worm out of Kyle's grip.

He shot up, slamming into Kyle's chest and shoving him off of himself, watching as he quickly recovered, a burst of red light flashing from his palm as he propelled himself back forward towards the angel. Kenny grabbed around him as he made contact, rolling him over and pinning him against the ground by his arms. Kyle threw himself about, screaming angrily as he tried to bite the blonde yet again. "Come on, I know you're in there!" he shouted, shaking him a bit. He watched as through the anger, Kyle's right eye began to twitch violently, the left remaining wide open and piercing through him.

Damien narrowed his eyes slightly at a minute loss of power. He gritted his teeth, flexing pulling veins and watching Kyle's body contorting as Kenny tried to keep him down. With a violent pull, he ripped the redhead completely out of his hold, sending his bloodied form back over towards himself and sliding through the clouds. The redhead calmly stood and stared Kenny down, the angel swallowing down a mouthful of vomit at his blood-soaked lover.

He grabbed Resurrection, shakily getting onto his feet. "Let him _out,_ Damien!" he screamed. "He's no good to you dead!"

He rolled his eyes, "He won't die until I _let_ him," he hissed. "And I plan on keeping him alive for a long, _long_ time." He watched Ken's eyes glowing once more, jaw dropping a bit as a large flash of white light flooded between the three of them. Damien and Kyle both went flying back, crashing against the clouds with angry thuds. Kyle hopped back onto his feet, Damien slower to follow from his reeling shock. He shook himself out of his stupor, plastering that smug smirk right back on his face. "Did I strike a nerve?" he questioned cooly, keeping Kyle in his place. "Tell me, what part upsets you the most? The part where you won't see him ever again, or the knowledge that when you're gone, he's _mine_?"

Kenny snarled fiercely. "I swear to fucking _God_ , I will-"

"God?" he repeated. "The God that let your squeeze here be my little bitch?" he smirked, watching Kenny's anger rise with vigor. He stepped up beside the stilled redhead and placed a hand in his hair once again. "I guess you already knew about that, didn't you?" he jeered, fiddling with a blood-soaked tuft. "How he bent over and just _took it_?" he hissed, eyes dancing in delight at Kenny's blade coming to life all at once with a scorching white heat. He tongued over his fangs and grinned. "It's a shame how you'll never again get to feel how nice and _tight_ he is," he bit, baiting his fish.

Kenny snatched the worm right up, screaming in a blinding rage and pushing himself forward. Damien loosened the hold on Kyle, letting him place himself in front of him yet again. Kenny kept his assault going forward, twisting as he approached the human shield and kicking him in the head, sending Kyle sprawling onto the ground out of the way. Damien gritted his teeth angrily, catching Resurrection in his palm, hissing as it pushed in through his skin, blazing to the touch and sending the heat riding along his bloodstream.

"I'll kill you! I swear to fucking God, I will **kill you**!" Kenny screamed.

Kyle recovered from his hit and leaped forward, grabbing Kenny and throwing him to the ground. He went to attack yet again, Kenny swinging up and nicking a strung vein apart as he dodged the hit. The blonde fell over clumsily from the panic and quickly stumbled back up, looking on confusedly as one of Kyle's arms went slack.

Damien rolled his eyes, staring at the arm to summon the vein back to fruition. He narrowed his gaze as nothing happened, blinking rapidly. He looked to the two of them as they continued dancing around each other in a flurry, eyes landing on the glisten of Resurrection. His eyes widened in panic. He couldn't heal a heavenly cut.

"Shit," he hissed, spreading the veins to his other hand as well, taking complete control over the man's movements. He winced at the veins stretching into his open wound, but kept steady as he masterfully maneuvered his toy around. He kept Kyle's back turned from Kenny, pulsing him forward time and again trying to just land a damn hit and bring the bumbling fool to the ground.

Kenny glanced over, seeing Damien's concentration suddenly taking place. He took another look at Kyle's limp arm, tightening his grip around his hilt. _'Don't let this kill him,'_ he prayed before leaping forward towards Kyle. Damien froze for a moment with the offense turned, quickly gathering his bearings once more and moving Kyle backwards rapidly. He growled as Kenny kept up his speed, trying to get around to Kyle's back. He suddenly stopped the redhead dead in his tracks, pushing him back forward to meet Kenny head on and slam his arm into his face. Kenny yelped, stumbling back onto the ground on wobbling legs, touching his now-bloodied nose and cringing.

Kyle landed across from him, eyes still dulled and the right still twitching away, pulsing silently under the tensive air of the battle. His entire body shone with his blood, glistening maliciously against the stained clouds beneath him.

Kenny gulped, lowering the hand cupping his nose, licking some ruby blood from off his lips. Damien wasn't going to turn Kyle around, he'd have to do this a different way.

He gritted his teeth, leaping backwards and flying on his back, watching Kyle carefully. The redhead snapped forward, chasing after him, ready to strike. Kenny gulped as he made way to the arena, hovering halfway over the ring and moving his sword down to his leg. Kyle pushed off with a burst of power on the edge of the viewing platform, heading towards the man with opened claws.

Damien watched, realizing what was happening and ripping Kyle's veins back. Kenny launched forward and grabbed around the redhead, gasping as Kyle's hand flew into his side, digging straight through the flesh and resting in his muscle. His eyes squeezed shut in agony as he forcefully brought his sword up, slicing clean through the array of strands bursting through Kyle's back. They fell against him listlessly and Kyle's body slumped, hand still secured in Kenny's side. The blonde's eyes rolled back and his wings couldn't keep themselves moving. He fell backwards down the way into the arena, slamming atop the clouds with Kyle still clutched in his arms.

Damien cursed as the veins snapped from his hand, brandishing his teeth, wings snapping behind him in fury. He heard a sound from his side and narrowed his eyes at a lone figure heading towards him. He sighed as he recognized Gragor speeding towards him, posture tensing with a worried look in his companion's eyes.

"Master Damien, there's a problem," he insisted in a panic, Damien eyeing a long wound down his side. He flickered his eyes to the arena, feeling both of the men still down and snapping his eyes up to the monster.

"Make it quick," he hissed.

* * *

 

Down on the arena floor, Kenny shivered violently, Kyle's hand still hanging partway out of his side. He reached down, slowly prying it out of his skin, hissing as he did so. "Ky?" he whispered, not even sure if his voice was audible. "Ky...please...are you there?" he begged. He stiffened as he felt fingers genially wrapping back around his own, and heard a long agonized whimper breaking through Kyle's lips. The blonde's head fell back against the ground in relief, blue eyes hazily focused on the clouds so nonchalantly soaring above them.

His head fell over to the side, vaguely recognizing Resurrection lying off and away. The polished silver was tarnished with a coat of translucent red, the celestial weapon marred with the reality of his actions. His heart lurched, body still quaking in his anguish. He forced his other hand up along Kyle's back, landing in his soaked hair and gently stroking his fingers along his skull.

Kyle lied atop of him, trying to find himself in his exhausted consciousness. He couldn't remember what had happened, but it was fairly easy to tell from his current position. His right eye felt as though it could beat its way right out of his skull, trying to keep him focused; To remember who he was. His veins were flopped uselessly around him, the man groaning as he couldn't bring them back into his body, the air assaulting every nerve with a strong vigor.

He had to do what he needed to do, he knew he did. But for now, for just this moment, he needed to breathe, to be reminded of why he was here and who he needed to save. He tightened his fingers just a bit more around Kenny's, trying to keep them both kept together as they lied, bodies pressed against familiarity, against _home,_ for the first time in so long, bleeding out onto the clouds in a kaleidoscope of bright and dark substance. "Kenny?" he croaked out against the needed, comforting form.

"Hm?" he barely breathed out, fighting to keep his vision from blurring.

"... _I'm sorry,"_ he whispered brokenly, tears springing down and falling along his nose and onto Kenny's shirt without his consent.

Kenny fought off his own wave of tears, opting instead to tighten his grip around Kyle's hand and continue to stare into the sky. Whatever happened next had little bearing anymore. He had what he needed; What they _both_ needed. He felt Kyle's fingers twitching around his own, his thumb stroking dotingly over the silver band still residing on his finger. He closed his eyes, breathing out a long, pained sigh. "I got you," he whispered to the slumped redhead, hoping that he could understand him through all the pain surrounding the both of them like a storm. "I got you."


	48. Until Man Exists No More

**A wise man [is] strong; yea, a man of knowledge increaseth strength. -** _**Proverbs 24:5** _

The demon standing across from him was rambling, worriedly pointing out every flaw in Hell's forces, how easily angels were striking them down dozens at a time. Damien narrowed his eyes as Gragor continued prattling on about his concerns, asking for a directive. He growled and shook his head, looking back towards the arena and honing in on the fallen men. He bit his lip, "Fine," Damien snapped, grabbing his arm and sinking through the clouds. He had to fix this problem and _fast_. Getting back to Kenny and Kyle was vital. For now, however, he was willing to let them simply bleed together, knowing full and well that the redhead couldn't heal what Kenny had done to him.

* * *

Down in their crippled pile, Kenny and Kyle held on to one another in silence, trying desperately to keep themselves conscious. Kyle's eyes flickered to his gushing shoulder wound leaking down onto Kenny's shirt and took a shuddery breath. His vision lazily flickered back as Damien's energy left the immediate vicinity and he gulped. It was now or never. He had to save Kenny and he had to do it _now_.

"Ken?" he forced out, slowly prying his hand from Kenny's grip and pushing himself with a whimper further up the man's body. His entire form burned, torn skin stretching and breaking further with each movement. It didn't matter. Only Kenny mattered, same as it always had been.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, relieved to hear that voice again, distorted as it was pushed through layers of anguish.

Kyle winced, pressing up and hovering over him, staring at his handsome face as familiar blue eyes creaked open. A weak smile passed over the blonde's profile, hand sliding from Kyle's hair to cup his cheek. "Hi," he said breathlessly. Even through the eyes and fangs, Kyle still felt like home, something that Kenny hadn't realized how desperately he needed as his body seemed to slacken with relief, shedding six months of anxiety at once.

Kyle got himself moving, slowly sliding his hand down to Kenny's oozing side and sliding his fingers through the slash, grabbing a large glob of blood on his first two fingers. Kenny winced as his claws scraped him once again, narrowing his eyes as Kyle brought the hand back up. "Do you trust me?" Kyle rasped exhaustedly.

Kenny nodded softly. "Always," he said tenderly.

His blue eyes widened in horror as Kyle took his blood coated fingers, stabbing them straight back into his shoulder wound. The redhead's eyes clenched shut, a hiss breaking through gritted teeth as he took the offending digits back out. He shakily grabbed Kenny's hands off the ground and from his cheek, holding them with his palms facing towards the sky. He took a shuddery breath, looking at the blonde with glazed eyes, Kenny blinking confusedly as his irises began to softly hum with color.

"Agree to the contract," Kyle whispered.

"H-huh?" he stammered out. Kyle grunted, pushing himself up more, resting his forehead down atop Kenny's.

"Say you agree to my contract," he directed. Kenny stared up at him and the demon gritted his teeth, eyes clenched shut as he tried to keep his power flowing. "Kenny, do it or we _die_ ," he demanded.

"I agree to the contract," Kenny said blankly, wincing as Kyle's claw dug into the palm of his right hand, a long slash running up diagonally across the skin. He felt blood leaking down onto his left and turned to see Kyle's hand marked just the same. "Ky...what...what are you-"

"Shh," Kyle breathed out exhaustedly. " _Don't let go_."

Kenny froze for a moment before nodding slowly, gulping as Kyle's hands tightened around his own. He could feel the power radiating through the younger, how much control he was forcing himself to harbor. He couldn't deny a part of him was fascinated, so used to the Kyle of before that would simply lose himself in his feelings. Now, Kyle was the still, unmovable tide, and Kenny seemed to be the chopping force of wind that tried to drown sailors for his own amusement.

" _Concinno meum similis eum,"_ he gritted out, clasping his fingers desperately around Kenny's. The blonde narrowed his eyes as a strange pulsing flew between their palms, feeling his own blood coursing through his body. _"Patitur me fortitudo eius."_

"Kyle...what are-" he stopped as Kyle gripped around his hands tighter; A silent plea. He knew what he was doing, Kenny needed to give him the ability to do so. Kenny silenced himself, arching up uncomfortably as something seemed to invade his chest. He blinked at Kyle, who was beginning to shake, brows furrowed in pain.

" _Participant virtutem, fac nobis unus,"_ he finished with a hiss, slamming Kenny's hands back against the clouds. The redhead winced, letting out a long, pained cry as a force shot between the both of them, Kenny's body lifting slightly on its own. His chest was pulled towards the hovering demon, wincing as a discomfort wormed its way throughout his core. His attention focused on Kyle, who was shaking with sweat, trying to hold on to his hands still. Kenny gripped him tighter, watching in concern. "Ken...let _go_ of it," Kyle pleaded, eyes beading with tears as he forced them back open.

This sounded far too familiar. Kenny blinked, "What do you me-"

"Let me _in_!" he begged. Kenny nodded slowly, placing focus back on his throbbing chest and forcing his body to calm itself, to let the pulsing play out naturally. He gasped as Kyle lurched up with a scream, grabbing a hold of his clawed fingers and lacing them together, keeping him down against him. His blue eyes scanned him in a complete frenzy. He didn't know _what_ to do to help him.

Kyle's body jerked about from atop the blonde, every pore trying to resist what he was doing. He couldn't though, this was their only goddamn chance. He could feel a very war for his soul raging on inside of him, Damien's sheer will trying to block his efforts. He lurched up with a last, long scream as Kenny looked on in horror, unable to understand just what was happening. Kyle finally slumped down once more, eyes slipping shut as his head fell down to the side of Kenny's face, rapid, pained breaths hitting his cheek.

"Ky?" Kenny whispered in fear, looking over at the man seeming down for the count. His jaw trembled, looking back up and wincing as the vibrations within him picked up madly for a round of beats before dying off all at once. He let out a long breath, panting from the sensation, gripping around Kyle's fingers again and feeling the clawed digits loosely slacked over the back of his hands. He gulped, eyes tracing over a cloud as he coughed lightly, body going through too much at once. All he could do for now was hold on to the redhead, and let go.

* * *

Damien hovered a good distance from the armies clashing against one another, eyes sweeping across the chaos. A flurry of swords, spears, and arrows seemed to completely jumble together within the mess and he shook his head. "You see?" Gragor insisted, flying beside him and pointing at the sea of white wings seeming to overpower the demonic forces.

He twisted his lips a bit and shook his head. His eyes glowed vibrantly, holding his gashed hand up and jerking it to the side. They watched as a crowd of about fifty angels were thrown back. He licked over his lips, both hands working to keep a constant barrage of them flying backwards. Gragor watched as the demon let his wings stop short, landing on the clouds and slamming his foot down, a ripple crashing through the surface.

They both watched with smirks as the wave made its way towards the angels under their feet. Panicked screams came from within as many became trapped in the heavy wisps of vapor trying to drown them. Those remaining upright rushed to relinquish their fallen comrades as the demon soldiers rushed to take their advantage. "Are you satisfied, Gragor?" Damien cocked his brow impatiently.

The demon grinned. "Brilliant work, Master Damien."

"It always is," he chuckled before his face fell, feeling a strange sensation in his chest. He glanced towards where he'd left Kenny and Kyle and narrowed his eyes.

"Master Damien?" Gragor questioned.

"He's dead," Damien whispered before another feeling assaulted him. "Wait, he's..." He gritted his teeth, lifting from the ground and hurrying back without another word to Gragor. Something wasn't right with his toy.

* * *

Kenny sniffled a bit, lying under Kyle's raspy, panting form. This was it, wasn't it? This was how he was going to go. Bleeding under Kyle, just like Damien promised. He shuddered. It was too much. All he wanted was to go home, just pretend this whole war had never happened. He'd wanted it for so long, but actually being with Kyle again just made the craving all the more vivacious.

He blinked as Kyle finally came back into consciousness and groaned, untangling their hands. "Kyle," he said desperately. "Ky, are you okay?"

The redhead was silent, genially propping himself on his palms hovering over the angel. His eyes were clenched shut, body quivering. Kyle gritted his fangs and Kenny watched in awe as the gash in his shoulder slowly pieced itself back together, one strand of flesh at a time. Veins flew sporadically into his back, crawling through his flesh to their proper places. Kyle let out long, heavy sobs as each wound, each tear of his skin, finally came back together. He felt lightheaded from the overwhelming blood loss, but forced himself to keep upright.

Kenny gulped, putting a shaking hand on Kyle's arm planted above his shoulder. "Kyle, I-" he stopped as Kyle suddenly put his hands on Kenny's forehead and side. The blonde arched up as a warmth rushed through him all at once, a complete upsurge of unexpected tranquility. He leaned his head back and his lips parted with a soft cry as he felt his side and back being put back together, his throbbing nose settling all at once and every ache being put to rest. He let out a long, heaving sigh as Kyle took his hands back, an influx of energy surging through the blonde at once.

He vaguely recognized Kyle slowly moving to get off of him. Kenny creaked his eyes open, seeing a clawed hand held down for him to grab and he smiled. He took the help gratefully, getting yanked onto his feet like he was a doll, slamming into the redhead from the surprise strength. "Whoa, sorry," he chuckled, backing up and looking down at him lovingly.

Kyle stared up at him, words caught in his throat but a smile creeping on his face. "You okay?" he managed to ask, despite all the things he desperately wanted to shout at the blonde.

"I'm great," he smiled with a breathy laugh. He glanced at the deep red tattooed mark etched into his right hand before reaching down and touching his healed side, looking at him proudly. "Neat trick."

He snorted, shaking his head. "I have it. May as well use it," he shrugged. Kenny grinned before his lips fell a bit and he cocked his head. Kyle blinked, a fear rising in his chest. "What?" he whispered.

"One of your eyes," he cupped his chin, pulling his face closer and brushing his thumb under his right orb, glowing that vibrant, _beautiful_ green that he remembered so well. "It's back to normal."

Kyle smiled in relief. Good. It _worked_.

He jolted a bit, looking to the side up at the sky as Kenny continued studying his face. "Ken," he breathed. The blonde didn't hear him, busy looking at the fangs protruding from Kyle's mouth and wondering if they could file them down somehow. "KEN!" Kyle shouted, looking back at him with wide eyes, grabbing his chin and turning his head up towards the balcony. Kenny glanced up, gulping at a dark figure looming overtop of them with glowing red eyes.

"Shit," he spat, slowly bending down and grabbing Resurrection around the now-sticky hilt, tugging Kyle closer beside him.

Damien watched with wide eyes, honed in on the redhead. What did he do? Why was his energy so different? He gritted his teeth, silently promising to disembowel Gragor in the future for his distraction. He cracked his fingers lightly, bending to jump down towards them.

The two on the ground watched as he swiftly descended, heading straight for them, fangs bared and ready to take them both down. Kenny grabbed Kyle around the waist and hurriedly took flight. Kyle yelped in shock, putting his arm around Kenny's shoulders to keep himself up as they quickly made their way out of the arena. Damien sneered, quickly turning to get on their trail, both sets of wings furiously flapping with violent snaps to get their goals. Kenny turned a bit, flying backwards and tightening his grip around Kyle's hip, holding his blade in front of them defensively and growling.

"Ken, I'm slowing you down, drop me!" Kyle ordered over the wind swooping around them angrily in their motions.

"He's not taking you again," he bit sharply, clutching around him possessively. Damien launched towards them, poised and aiming for Kyle. The blonde quickly turned to place the redhead to the back, slicing his blade up and striking Damien in the forearm. The demon quickly recovered with a snarl, eyes pulsing violently. Kenny yelped as he was slammed by an invisible force, plummeting towards the ground. He barely recovered in time to save himself and Kyle, only a few feet from the clouds when he finally stopped the descent. Damien dove towards them and Kenny's eyes glistened angrily.

Kyle wasn't blocking the way now, Damien couldn't make him stop this time.

Damien noticed the power beginning to crest the air and his eyes widened, quickly twisting to get out of the way. Kenny took his chance and made his way up towards him through the light, brandishing his sword as Damien tried to back out of the way of the heat crackling through the air. The demon hissed, feeling them approaching and quickly whipping around, claws slashing with a violent scrape along the metal to fend it off. Kenny sneered, striking time and again, trying to cut off the fucker's head. Kyle's weight was throwing him off, but he couldn't just let him be a sitting duck.

Kyle's eyes flickered between the two of them as they thrust and parried continuously, fangs gritted. Just sitting here out of reach of hitting Damien wasn't going to help a damn thing. He took a deep breath, looking down at the clouds lying far below them and narrowed his eyes. Damien was going to go for either one of them at a disadvantage, so he'd just have to play the part for a moment. He quickly grabbed around Kenny's arm holding him and dug his claws into the skin. Kenny yelped, the muscle jerking in shock, and its grip loosening enough for Kyle to slip through and begin falling down towards the ground.

Damien grinned sickeningly, diving after him. Kenny quickly hurried after them both, eyes widened in a desperate panic.

Kyle glanced at the quickly approaching ground before the truer threat of Damien rushed towards him. The demon caught up and grabbed him around the wrist, jerking him up with a pained yelp. Damien was nearly about to turn before Resurrection slammed down into his arm, digging halfway through the muscle and bone. He screamed in a pained anger, hand opening in reflex, and Kyle began to plummet once more. Kenny swooped down past Damien and caught him around the waist again, frowning at him as he genially landed the both of them atop the clouds.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" he demanded. "Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Kyle!"

He pouted, "You got a hit in, didn't you?"

Kenny rolled his eyes, "Next time don't fucking throw it up in the air between suicide and being murdered, you retard."

"Ay," he snapped.

Damien landed across the way from them as they stared at each other firmly. He gritted his teeth, pushing forward and launching towards the both of them. Kyle caught his energy and twisted as he was approaching. He tried pushing the blonde out of the way, reacting too late as Damien tackled Kenny down to the ground, a wave of power sending Kyle flying far off and to the side. The demon sneered as he held the angel underneath of him, trying to dig his claws into his throat as Kenny struggled to keep his fingers above the skin. Kenny's legs kicked uselessly under him, his wings bent awkwardly beneath his back. He rasped out a half-breath, glaring at the red eyed man hovering over him.

"Die now and you won't see the _horrible_ things I'll do to _him_ ," Damien whispered venomously, jerking his head towards Kyle's direction. Kenny's eyes shone and his light slammed down around the both of them, Damien cringing and shaking, but refusing to relinquish his hold. He brought his own power about, the air between them a nauseating mix of light as each fought for control. Damien's body felt as though it were on fire. Little cuts and scrapes began tearing through Kenny's clothes and skin. Damien's claws inched all the closer to Kenny's throat, more than ready for the sweet sensation of the nail digging through flesh, draining life through his fingertips.

He tongued over his lips hungrily, focus directed down onto the wheezing blonde, awaiting his moment with an overwhelming elation. He jerked as something sharp sheared up his shoulder blade, a sickening pain coursing through him as he felt the muscle and cartilage of his wing being separated.

Damien screamed out in agony, looking back behind him in horror to watch his left wing slipping off with a lifeless thud. He glanced to see Kyle poised with Resurrection to hit him again and quickly leaped off of the blonde, getting himself back a good fifty feet and panting, hand going to clutch around the bleeding stub behind him. "You little _fuck_ ," he hissed.

Kyle ignored him, helping Kenny back onto his feet and handing him back his sword. Both Kenny and Damien stared at him in bewilderment. The ability to wield the weapon should have been _far_ outside his realm of possibility. Damien's eyes slithered over the man's shoulder, eyes widening at the lack of a wound, not even a _scar._ Kyle looked back at him, Damien noticing the green back in full force within his right eye, and it all clicked at once.

He chuckled darkly and crossed his arms, the throbbing of his back overshadowed by his surprise of the small redhead. "Took on some angel, did you?" he purred. Kyle silently stared at him, that sharpness still lingering in both eyes as Damien continued, "Little mouse, I _told_ you there's no way to get rid of your demonic presence," he gestured towards him a bit. "Now all you've done is thrown even _more_ onto your soul to handle. How on Earth did you _manage_ to find such a spell?"

His lips quirked upwards a bit. "Just used the reversal of what you used on me," he said plainly with a casual shrug. "The version without the puppet bullshit, of course," he rolled his eyes.

Damien snorted, "Well that just takes the _fun_ out of it. And just what did you want to accomplish here? Just wanted to heal? Wanted to try to get me out?" he taunted.

He smirked, "No. Wanted to put _me_ in," he poked Kenny's chest a bit, who looked between the two of them in confusion. Damien narrowed his eyes, trying to catch his meaning before Kyle shrugged again. "I mean, he doesn't have any _residual_ effects, but a part of me, a part that _you_ put in, is right in there." he poked him again.

Damien's eyes widened a bit, practically feeling the sliver of mortality rushing through himself before returning to his cooled demeanor. "So you put some demon in him, so what? He can't harness it, Little one."

Kyle smiled sweetly, "But he gets whatever...'bonuses' a demon gets. Like...not being able to be killed by another demon for example," he raised his brow.

Damien clenched his jaw, eye twitching. The little _fuck_. He quickly forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. "Well, that means he can't kill _me_ either, Little mouse," he reminded him smugly.

Kyle wagged his finger in the air a bit, that smirk still over his face. "Except for one tiny problem: That rule was set by your father over beings that belong to the realm of _Hell_." Damien's eyes widened in realization as Kyle gestured to the tall blonde beside him. "Kenny belongs to Heaven, not your father. So you can't kill _him_ , but _he_ _can kill you_ ," he hissed, eyes brimming with morbid glee.

Kenny looked from Kyle slowly back up to Damien. The demon's entire body was rigid, looking at Kyle with such loathing, such _fury_ in his eyes they could feel it weighing down on them in the air. The blonde's eyes brightened as he caught up with Kyle's plan and he stared at the noirette, sharp, glossing irises cutting over him like diamonds. A sly grin crept up his face as Damien met his stare, fingers tightening around Resurrection confidently. " _You're dead."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> _Concinno meum similis eum_ \- Make me like him
> 
> _Patitur me fortitudo eius_ \- Allow me his strength
> 
> _Participant virtutem, fac nobis unus_ \- Share power, make us one
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	49. The Victor's Crown

**To the angel of the church in Ephesus write: These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands. -** _**Revelation 2:1** _

There was a palpable worry that Kenny and Kyle could feel emanating from the antichrist, his body stiffened and his red eyes darting between the both of them. Kenny reached over and grasped Kyle's hand with his own, squeezing it gently. He couldn't thank him enough. This was going to make his job much _much_ easier.

He casually spun Resurrection in his other hand, twirling his fingers flowingly along the bloodied hilt. "So," he drawled, raising his brow at the demon. "That thing about destroying Heaven? I have this feeling it ain't gonna work out too well for ya."

Damien shook off the worry lingering in his gaze and snarled. "So I can't kill you. Big fucking deal. I'll just maim you instead and drag your little bitch kicking and screaming away from you again. Won't be much of a 'hero's' life when you're dismembered and all alone, will it, McCormick?"

Ken frowned, placing his arm in front of Kyle and pushing him back behind him a bit. "Damien, it's fucking over," he snapped.

Damien stared at him for a moment before his eyes slowly shifted onto the redhead behind him, his lip curling up furiously. He knew he should've taken away that _pesky_ free will of his. He never would have guessed Kyle would find such a loophole so quickly. He clenched his fists, feeling his wing's stump still leaking blackened blood down his back. The little fuck was just like McCormick, finding his way through the rules and using them as _he_ saw fit, messing with the process he was raised on and held in high regard. He let out a long, angry breath through his nose, Kyle narrowing his eyes back at him. "Silly little mouse," Damien spat, cracking his neck and staring down the man. "I thought I'd taught you well enough."

"Damien, stop," Kenny ordered, eyes flashing transcendentally.

"After all," he drawled, "you may have some of McCormick's power in you, but _I'm_ the one who holds your strings."

"Dude, I'm fucking warning you," Ken sneered, pushing the silent Kyle further behind him.

"And just _think_ of how horrible it'll be to know you came so close, but he still couldn't save you," he pouted, smirking as Kenny's eyes glossed over entirely. "But why would he _want_ to save you?" he grinned, holding out his hand and letting his ruby-encrusted dagger appear within his grasp. "You're a little monster who rips off heads and tears out hearts. Who could love such a little disaster waiting to happen?" he cooed, stroking over the handle nonchalantly.

Kenny grasped Kyle's hand again and the redhead looked up at the blonde, his focus still locked on Damien. Kenny's fingers squeezed his again and he took a long breath, shaking his head at Damien. His fucking mind games were over. Kenny wasn't going to desert him. There was no conceivable way the archangel holding his hand was about to let him be taken again. "You're full of _shit_ ," he glowered.

He grinned evilly. "Maybe he doesn't mind you being a demon, fine..." he paused and his eyes brimmed with pure malevolence. "But who wants damaged goods?"

The blonde growled furiously and Kyle shook in his place, gripping back Kenny's hand tighter. "Ken?" he breathed through gritted teeth. The angel glanced down at him and Kyle kept his rage-filled gaze locked on target. " _Kill him_ ," he spat. Kenny was _more_ than happy to oblige, taking his hand back and speeding towards the demon, preparing Resurrection to strike him down. Damien sneered, hitting him back off with his dagger, the blonde pushing him back further and further with each strike. He tongued over his lips, managing to parry off a downward swipe and send Resurrection back over Kenny's head. He took his moment and lashed forward, stabbing through Kenny's ribs.

Kenny gritted his teeth, free hand flying down in a fist and punching the demon in the cheek, sending him flying off and his dagger tearing out of his skin. He growled, pushing off to follow Damien's fall, his blade gleaming white once more. He landed a strike on the back of Damien's knee, the demon hissing and rolling himself out of the full blow before it sliced through his tendons. He hopped back onto his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain of his leg and meeting another hit, the metals clashing against each other in a singing dissonance.

Kyle watched from his distance, flickering his eyes around and trying to find the energy he was seeking, his body unaccustomed to having Kenny's power flowing through and trying to throw him off balance. "Fuck," he whispered, trying to focus on a direction but unable to keep his attention off the two hopping around each other and lashing out so viciously.

Damien gave a short glimpse at the redhead, Ken catching the look right off. "You're not touching him again," he hissed, slamming Resurrection down onto Damien's weapon. Damien turned his dagger onto its side, pressing the heel of his palm against the edge to hold the angel back from slicing him down.

He grinned snarkily, "Well, the first time was just so _fun_ I think I want another round."

Kenny lashed his foot out towards him and Damien quickly grabbed his leg, pivoting out of the way of his blade crashing down on him. He dug his claws into the flesh, bringing Kenny through the twisting and throwing him off to the side. The blonde caught himself a few yards away, wings straightening out and hurtling himself back. Damien sank through the ground into his portal and Kenny stopped, looking around with his blade held up defensively, knowing the bastard could pop out from any angle.

Kyle blinked as a sudden jolt of energy started rushing towards him. "Shit!" he spat, trying to run towards Kenny, stopped by a hand in his hair from behind. Kenny turned and his jaw dropped in panic, speeding towards the two of them.

Damien grinned, ripping Kyle back and throwing the dagger against his neck, watching Kenny stop in his tracks. "Now," he purred. "Remember that he's still technically alive," he drawled, pressing the blade against Kyle's adam's apple. "He hasn't been sentenced yet. If I kill him, since _I claimed him_ , he'll be sent to Hell," he cocked his brow. "From there on it's an easy task to get a mortal to kill him for good and let his broken little soul fall into Purgatory. And you won't be able to get him out." He wasn't stupid, Kyle would be able to break out of his puppetry with ease if Kenny's soul was clashing against his own and lessening his influence within the tiny redhead. He had only a third of the control, and those odds didn't seem to work, especially when now Kyle couldn't do away with the blonde as he'd originally planned. He'd just have to go with a few more primitive manners to get what he wanted.

"Let him go, Damien!" Kenny spat, knuckles locked painfully around Resurrection.

Kyle glanced from the blade against his throat back up into Kenny's desperate eyes, slowly flexing his fingers and keeping his breathing even. Damien pulled him against his chest and he gritted his fangs, feeling the monster's breath wash through his hair. "Good little mice always seem to fall right back to the cat, don't they?" he purred lowly into his ear.

Kyle's eyes sharply sliced back towards him, his head leaning up a bit more as Damien pressed deeper against his neck. Kenny looked on in absolute limbo, not sure of how to proceed.

"It's just a shame the cat isn't smart enough to keep me," Kyle spat, red eye glowing. He turned his hand and dug it down into Damien's stomach, his other palm flying up to get between his throat and the blade. He caught it on his pentagram, wincing as Damien hissed, pushing down against him more. Kyle clenched his fingers down in Damien's body, twisting enough for Damien to jerk in pain. He took his moment and grabbed the dagger from his grasp, whirling around and sending it down into the side of his neck. Damien looked at him furiously and Kyle sneered back, yelping as an influx of Damien's power sent him careening backwards. Kenny ran forward, jumping up and grabbing him to bring him back down onto the ground safely. They both looked as Damien ripped the knife from the crook of his neck, shaking his head and glancing down at the stained blade.

He glanced back up at Kyle and glared savagely, "Remember the _last_ time you stabbed me, Little one?" he hissed. "It didn't end so well, did it? This time it'll be even worse," he promised, looking down and touching the mess of his stomach, the black leaking from Kyle's claw marks.

Kenny tightened his grip around Kyle, pulling him back against his chest and holding Resurrection in front of them. The redhead looked at him and took a deep breath. "Ken, where's the rest of the war happening?" he murmured. "I can't sense 'em."

Ken jerked his head westwards. "Over that way, why?"

"Can you get me there?" he asked, glancing up at him. "I can stop this thing, but I have to be there."

Kenny narrowed his eyes a bit, "Ky, that isn't safe for you to-"

"Kenny, my last six months haven't been the least bit safe," he spat. "We can talk about you putting me on lockdown when we're home and alive, all right?"

The blonde blinked at him, taking a deep breath and nodding slowly. It wasn't like the redhead hadn't kept himself alive all this time, he'd just have to trust his judgement, regardless of the overwhelming worry. "Yeah. I'll get you there," he said, glancing back at Damien who was busy trying to heal Kyle's cuts, cursing at him for the amount of heavenly power making them more difficult to manage. He grasped around Kyle's waist, waiting for him to throw his arm over his shoulders. His eyes went clear and he swung Resurrection in front of him, a large burst of light shooting from the blade and heading towards Damien. He quickly turned on his heel and took off with Kyle as Damien was distracted trying to escape the attack.

The demon snarled, hopping out of the way, his one wing throwing him off balance and making him land with one leg getting hit by the power and sending him onto the ground. "Fucking little bastards," he spat. He reached behind him, grabbing his remaining wing and ripping it off with a scream, throwing it down onto the clouds and staring at the two of them quickly making their way back towards the battlefield. He gnarled, swiftly taking off on foot to follow them, using short bursts of his power to propel him forward faster.

Kenny shifted Kyle in his grasp, keeping an eye back for Damien, seeing him following closely behind. "Doesn't that fuck ever give up?" he groaned.

"It's good he's following," Kyle assured him, heterochromial eyes locked straight forward as they approached their destination, the sounds of angered shouting and weapons clanging becoming stronger. "We can land a decent amount away, I just need to be able to see the area."

"What are you planning?" he raised his brow.

"You'll see," he promised. "Just keep Damien off of me."

He squeezed him a little tighter, "Trust me, that was never not the plan." He winced as Kyle awkwardly maneuvered his hand to his still-bleeding ribs, feeling that calming warmth pulsing through him again. He shook his head as the sensation quelled. "Thanks."

Kyle just smiled at him before looking back up front, blinking at the massive thrall of warriors fighting in the distance. "Holy shit."

"Yeah, bet they don't make war this big lookin' in your classes, do they?" he teased.

Kyle nodded in agreement. "Okay, this should be good, I need a good amount of clear space."

He looked back to see Damien fell behind a decent bit and took a steadying breath as they hovered above the grounds. "Be careful, all right? If he grabs you again..." he looked at him worriedly.

Kyle stared at him before pressing a chaste kiss against him, both of them shuddering at the missed sensitivity roaming through their lips. "I'll be fine," he promised him.

Ken nodded, quickly descending down onto the ground and letting Kyle unwind from around him. Ken glanced towards the battlefield and the overwhelming noise, letting his eyes roam until they landed on his fellow archangels. "GUYS!" he shouted, getting a surprised flinch out of Kyle and shrugging sheepishly. "Shit, they can't hear me," he hissed.

Kyle looked from him to the others, holding up his hand. His left eye burned with embers as he managed to hone in on Raphael and grab him with his power, turning the angel's head towards the both of them. "Tell him to bring two others," Kyle directed. Raphael blinked in shock as Kyle let him go. Kenny pointed at him and held up two fingers before waving his hand back towards himself. Raphael nodded in understanding, grabbing Michael and Gabriel's arms. He pointed to Kenny and Kyle and they all three flew quickly towards the both of them, avoiding demons and angels thrashing about all the while.

They finally broke free of the chaos, zooming towards them and landing, panting tiredly. "Well...good to see you not killing Kenny," Raphael nodded at Kyle.

"Yeah, it wasn't on the agenda for today," he rolled his eyes. He jerked up and shot his head around, "He's almost here," Kyle warned.

"All right," Ken nodded curtly. "Mike, you and me gotta keep Damien away from Kyle. He says he knows how to end this fucking thing. Raph and Gabe, you're helping him with whatever he needs," he directed firmly. "Come on," he jerked his head for Michael to follow him. The brunette made his way behind him, both of them readying their swords.

Kyle watched after his fiancé in shock, lips quirking upwards a bit. "Holy shit," he chuckled softly.

"He's different now, isn't he?" Gabriel grinned amusedly at Kyle's surprise.

He nodded, staring at Kenny's back as he walked further off with a sly smirk, "Can't say I hate his authoritative voice."

"Oh good _lord_ , you're as bad as him," Raphael rubbed his forehead exhaustively.

Kyle snorted a bit before his face fell and he took a deep breath, holding his hand off to his side towards the ground and letting his eye catch its spark once more. _"Adduc eos ad me,"_ he said firmly, Gabriel and Raphael watching in interest. " _Adduc Pip et Valefor per latus meum."_ The angels jerked back as an ebbing portal splayed atop the clouds, splattered like a paint stain atop the pristine purity. Kyle watched intensively before breaking into a relieved smile as a blonde head popped out of the portal, followed by Valefor as they both crashed into the clouds.

"Oh my," Pip murmured, sitting up and rubbing his head, looking up at the bloodstained Kyle and his face dropping. "Dear lord, what happened to you?!" he exclaimed, getting onto his feet and staring at him.

"Uh, war?" he raised his brow. He oofed as Valefor hopped up with his paws on his shoulders and licked at his face. "Get down, Val!" he hissed, batting him back off. He shook his head and stared at Pip. "Do you have my parchment?" he demanded.

He nodded briskly. "As well as your little knife," he informed him, reaching into his pocket and tearing out the paper along with a crooked dagger.

"Seirexal's good then? Didn't get found and called to fight?" he asked casually.

Pip pouted, "Yes, but it would have been _lovely_ if you had _informed me_ that that brute was going to be in the cave, let alone with a _weapon_!" Kyle chuckled, glancing down at his parchment and nodding to himself as Gabriel and Raphael watched intently.

The redhead looked up at them and smiled. "Okay, I need you two to take these guys and get them secured," he pointed to Pip and Valefor.

Gabriel raised his brow, "Secured?"

He nodded, "Look, get a good grip on them and do _not_ let them go, do you understand?" They looked at him confusedly and he frowned, "You have to trust me and do it! Get them a good distance from me that-a way," he pointed towards the south.

Raphael nodded back, "We trust you, Kyle. Please be careful."

"I also need one of your swords, if that's all right," he winced. They glanced at each other and nodded, Raphael handing him Liberality.

"You can't wield it, Kyle. It's only of use for someone of archangel sta-" he stopped as Kyle stabbed it firmly into the clouds, shaking it a bit to test its wiggle room. He and Gabriel blinked in shock. "How in God's name did you-"

"Go!" he snapped. The two of them jerked back before doing as told, Gabriel grasping Pip by the shoulder and Raphael picking Valefor up with a wince at his weight. Kyle watched them heading off and took a deep breath, glancing at the dagger in his hand and back to the sound of clashing blades behind him as Michael, Kenny, and Damien moved around each other in a frenzy. "Please let this work," he murmured.

* * *

"Give up, Damien, you're fucked!" Kenny sneered, Michael and himself circling around the demon menacingly.

He growled, dagger wielding hand following Kenny with his other pointed at Michael, ready to unleash power to get him back. "You think so, huh?" he bared his fangs. "You realize I've won everything else about this fight, this won't be any different!"

"You haven't won shit!" he spat.

"Won your little bitch, didn't I?" he jeered. Kenny snarled, leaping forward and clashing against him, Michael following suit. Damien blasted a shock wave between the two of them sending them both flying back. They quickly recovered, making sure to not give Damien any wiggle room to head off to the redhead once more.

"Mike, behind me!" Kenny shouted. Michael quickly diverted himself behind the blonde as his eyes gleamed and his light shot down between himself and Damien. The noirette flew back, trying to catch himself as Kenny sped through the glare, seeing clear as day through the blinding spectacle. He locked on Damien and slashed Resurrection downwards across the chest, sending him falling back even further, the dagger soaring out of his hand to the side.

Damien coughed, struggling to sit himself up with an agonized shudder, eyes widening at the point of a sword brandished in his face. He looked up the tip into Kenny's burning, steady eyes. Damien sneered, head tilting back as Kenny pressed against his throat, feeling the blade slicing his skin. "Well? Fucking do it, McCormick!" he dared with a vicious spit, black blood running down the sides of his mouth.

"Why did you fucking do this?" he demanded lowly. "You knew you weren't going to win."

"There's always a chance," he drawled. "And my chances were great until that little cunt of yours decided to fuck everything up."

Kenny snarled, jerking forward a bit and tilting his chin up higher with his blade, eyes furrowed in fury. "What is your beef with _me_?!" he snapped. "Why the _fuck_ would torturing Kyle do anything for the fucking war?"

He smirked, "You take an enemy down by their heart, not by mere force..." he looked at Michael observing from behind and chuckled darkly. "My father taught me that."

The brunette scowled viciously, "And your father _lost_."

"Did he?" he cocked his brow. "Has his own domain, has his power. Sure, it's a little boring, but look at who he is in the grand scheme of things," he purred.

"What a shock, you had a power trip," Kenny rolled his eyes. "Should've figured it was you just wanting to be as powerful as your fucking daddy."

"I'm already more powerful than my father. I did something he couldn't quite accomplish," he raised his brow. Kenny furrowed his own and Damien grinned smugly. "I _took_ what I wanted. I didn't beat around the bush until war was the only option. War was the _last_ option, but I fucking made it happen anyway," he hissed.

"You didn't _get_ anything," Michael frowned.

He laughed, "Oh? Because...I know of a little redheaded slut who'd beg to differ," he looked at Kenny's savage face with a grin. "Did I strike another little nerve?" he prodded, watching Kenny's sword shaking with his trembling hand.

Kenny growled, tightening his grip around his hilt. "You're a disgusting piece of shit," he spat.

He shrugged casually, "Those who follow the rules aren't the ones with power."

Kenny opened his mouth to retort before being cut off with a large shout from Kyle. _"Satellites illam unam patere inferni!"_ The three of them looked back, eyes widening at Kyle holding his hand up towards the sky, blood streaking heavily down his arm and a stained dagger clutched in the other. _"Ego proturbo tu de loco isto!"_ Kenny blinked as a small breeze began to rake through his hair towards the redhead, raising his brow in confusion.

Damien glanced up at Kenny's distraction and grinned. He raised his hands and jerked them away from each other, Michael and Kenny both flying to opposite sides. Damien launched up, hurrying towards the distracted redhead. Kenny shot back onto his feet, flying towards him at a breakneck speed, Resurrection poised.

Damien reared his claws, ready to unleash his power on Kyle before jerking in shock as his back suddenly tore apart. His eyes widened as he fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for breath as the clouds beneath him soon stained with his inked blood. He glanced up, fighting to keep his vision at Kenny sprayed with his blood, the angel spitting some back on his face. "I wish Kyle could've done that," he murmured, staring down at him as though he were nothing but a gnat on the floor. "He deserves to be the one to slice you open and kill you however _he_ wants." He kneeled down beside him, grabbing the demon's chin and shaking him. "And you were _stupid_ enough to give him the power to do so," he hissed, standing back up and digging his foot down into his gaping wound. Damien merely gasped for breath and delved his claws into the clouds, red eyes blown wide with pain.

The wind suddenly picked up incredible speed, Kenny looking over to see Kyle holding onto Liberality's handle, bending his knees for stance as a large portal opened a good 100 yards away from him, looking like a vortex of death. Ken raised his brow as his hair and clothes blew wildly but nothing else, eyes widening as he looked past Kyle into the distance. Demons began sliding towards the portal, on a desperate mission to stop themselves before sliding down into the black hole as angels looked on confusedly.

"Michael, Ken, help us out!" Gabriel shouted. They both looked at the two of them in the distance struggling to keep a hold on Pip and Valefor as they tried to be sucked into the hole as well. Kenny looked down to see Damien's eyes slipped shut, starting to slide forward with the wind and nodded curtly to Michael, the both of them hurrying over to help hold the two of them steady.

"What's going on?" Kenny yelled over the sound of wind rushing through his ears and demons shouting in panic.

"Kyle learned a banishment spell!" Pip shouted back, yelping as he jerked up before Kenny brought him back down. "He's sending all the minions back to Hell!"

Ken blinked before smiling widely. Regardless of what Damien did to him, he could never break Kyle's all-consuming motto of going big or going home. He glanced at the battlefield quickly dissolving into a sea of angels, nearly crying in relief.

Pip opened his eyes against the raging storm, mouth dropping as Valefor started barking frantically. "Kenny, Damien! He's going after Kyle!" he screamed, pointing behind them. Kenny turned in panic, Michael grabbing onto Pip as he leapt away towards them.

Damien sneered, letting the force of the wind pull him to his target at an incredible speed. He growled, rearing his claw back as he approached Kyle, who was clutching onto Liberality desperately, trying to keep himself from being sucked into the hole as well. He screamed as claws shot through his back and an arm grabbed around his throat, pulling him down and dragging him towards the whirlpool. He turned onto his stomach, digging his claws into the clouds and continuing to be drug down. He whimpered at Damien's claws twisting in his back. " _I'm not leaving empty-handed_ ," Damien spat, weakly pushing them up to fly quicker towards the vortex.

Kyle looked to see Kenny rushing towards him desperately. "Ken!" he screamed. The fear in his voice shot Kenny forward with a burst of light, grabbing Kyle's outstretched arm tightly as they began to topple over the edge. Kenny gritted his teeth, wings flapping furiously trying to get the redhead out of Damien's ironclad grip. Damien's arm tightened around his throat, Kyle's eyes bulging as he choked, fingers clasping listlessly for Kenny.

Damien smirked, tightening his grip in Kyle's muscles. "I'll take you both, that's fine with me," he hissed.

The blonde dove down a bit and Kyle wrapped his arms around his neck, yanking away from the arm around his throat and looking back at Damien furiously. Kyle growled, "You're not touching _either_ of us, you fuck!" he screamed, holding his hand in Damien's face, eyes glowing vibrantly with shining hues of red and green. Damien yelped as a dynamic force slammed into him and sent him out of Kyle's back, bloodied form tumbling into the abyss with his army.

"Kenneth!' a voice shouted, the blonde struggling to keep his wings going and to keep Kyle from slipping from his grasp. He looked up to see Uriel with his hand outstretched, reaching up and taking it. The elder pulled them up and out of the hole, grabbing around Kyle and helping Kenny lead him towards the others. All eight archangels surrounded the three minions, holding onto them tightly as monsters continued slipping into the hole.

"Kyle, how do you stop it?!" Kenny yelled.

"How close are we to everyone being gone?!" he asked back, unable to see past the angel barrier.

Jegudiel looked from his position in the front, eyes steadily sweeping over the landscape. "We're good!" he shouted.

Kyle nodded, getting his dagger and parchment back out of his pocket, scanning over it. He gulped. "Ken, you have to fly me over it!"

"WHAT?!" he demanded. "You already almost fell-"

"Kenny!" he begged.

The blonde took a shaky breath and nodded, gathering the redhead and taking flight, the force on Kyle's body easily pulling them towards their goal. Kyle's eyes scanned the area rapidly for any stray demons before looking back at the portal. He winced as the pull got stronger as Kenny hovered overtop of it, struggling to keep a grip on the small man.

" _Signo locum istum!"_ he shouted as his red eye lit fiercely, slicing a second gash deep into his left hand. " _Sero eam in sanguine meo_!" He tossed the bloodied dagger down into the portal, he and Kenny hiding their faces in each other's shoulders as a searing red light shot through straight up into the sky and surrounded the both of them. The remainder watched in astonishment as the clouds swirled back together, cutting off the vile wind all at once and bringing the war zone to an eerie, quiet stillness.

Kenny and Kyle raised their heads from one another, panting and staring at each other in silence, looking for _something_ to be able to say. Kenny slowly brought them down onto the ground, legs shaky and bodies over exhilarated. The moment of serenity passed as a large, joyful cheer of victory rose through the army in the distance. The two men continued to stare at each other, slowly breaking into the wide, loving smiles that they hadn't been able to muster in so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Translations:_
> 
> _Adduc eos ad me -_ Bring them to me
> 
> _Adduc Pip et Valefor per latus meum -_ Bring Pip and Valefor by my side
> 
> _Satellites illam unam patere inferni -_ Minions of Hell
> 
> _Ego proturbo tu de loco isto -_ I banish you from this place
> 
> Sorry for the super sharp cut off at the end there but this fucker was already 5,000 words pffff. That's what next chappie is for. Thanks for reading!


	50. Hallelujah

**Let those who do wrong continue to do wrong; let those who are vile continue to be vile; let those who do right continue to do right; and let those who are holy continue to be holy. -** _**Revelation 22:11** _

"Lord Satan, come quick!" A knock erupted at his door, the pacing devil stopping in his tracks and hurrying towards the barrier. He threw it open, mouth gaping as he glanced up, demons falling from the ruby sky and slamming onto the ground. He stepped out and looked around at the chaos, mortals running in panic from the sudden influx of monsters landing everywhere. He couldn't help but indulge himself in a small smile. He _knew_ they could do it.

"My lord!" Timpetan rushed up to him panting exhaustedly.

Satan raised his brow and folded his hands behind his back. "I assume the battle was lost?"

He bristled, ducking into himself ashamedly. "Yes. That mortal of Master Damien's opened a portal."

"Ah," he nodded, biting his cheek to keep himself from grinning. Banishment. Brilliant.

"But, Sir, Master Damien is very hurt," he said hurriedly, gesturing towards the crowd. Satan followed his pointing, eyes widening at Gragor hurrying towards him with a broken Damien in his arms.

"Shit," Satan murmured, waving him into his office. Gragor and Timpetan hurried inside, Satan stepping in behind them and watching his son carefully. His eyes were barely open, chest and back slashed apart as blood poured from him profusely. His breathing was shallow, heavy rasps.

The demons quickly arranged the chairs so they faced each other, gently lowering the antichrist onto the cushions, cringing as he let out a long, agonized groan. Satan took a deep breath, chest twisted in worry and fighting back his urge to dance around telling Damien 'I told you so' over and over again. He stepped up and kneeled down beside the chair, staring at his son's dulled red eyes. "What can I do, Damien?" he asked gently.

"Kill...those...fucks," he spat, gritting his fangs as his body twitched.

He shook his head, "Damien, forget about them. What do _you_ need?" The noirette grumbled, Satan's sharp hearing picking up the words 'Mouse' and 'angel'. He sighed, looking at the two hovering worriedly. "Get some bandages," he ordered.

They both nodded curtly, scurrying past the two of them and out the door. Satan looked back at his son and bit his lip. "Damien, this is going to take a _long_ time to heal," he said quietly. Damien glared at him weakly before slumping a bit in exhaustion. "I told you how long it took me to heal when I got hit with a divine sword," he continued, brushing some of Damien's bangs from his eyes. "You're lucky Kenny didn't cut you in half."

"Kill me," he rasped out, staring at his dad determinedly. "I can respawn...a-and..." he shut his eyes, words taking far too much energy to push out.

He frowned, "You've been damaged too long to come back healed, Damien. You'd end up right where you are now. You're going to just have to wade through the time." Damien scoffed before choking on his air, coughing a spray of inky blood onto the carpet. Satan shook his head and placed a loving hand on Damien's arm, looking at the disaster lied out before him.

He knew this would happen. It'd happened once before and history was bound to repeat itself. He'd spent so many years telling Damien how he'd fucked up, how he shouldn't have rebelled in the manner he did. Leave it to his stubborn son to take it the complete opposite way in which he meant it. He sighed, watching Damien's eyes slip closed, mouth partially open as he fell into unconsciousness. He winced a bit at the slashes parading his body. Damien had a _long_ recovery road ahead of him, and he'd never shed what he'd done like Satan himself had managed. At least, physically. Damien could have the physical scars, but he'd never harbor the emotional, not knowing the way he was.

He glanced at the cut on Damien's arm, brow raising at the red, blistered skin surrounding it. He looked closer, nearly laughing in disbelief at the proof laid out before him: Kenny figured out how to burn the Devil.

He looked back over as Gragor and Timpetan hurried back into the office with boxes of supplies. He nodded curtly and got to his cloven feet. "Wrap him up and take him to his room to rest," he directed. He walked over to his desk, grabbing a stack of books from the top and turning to walk out of the room.

"Lord Satan, where are you going?" Gragor blinked, looking between him and his fallen son.

He smiled and shrugged dismissively. "I have something to take care of."

* * *

Through the echoes of cheers surrounding the two of them, Kenny and Kyle couldn't seem to find just what to say. Kenny made up his mind about the use of their mouths, pressing their lips together fiercely. Kyle blinked before his eyes slipped shut and he ran his clawed hand up through Kenny's hair, pulling him closer. Every _ounce_ of tension fell straight through them, leaking through the clouds to fall upon whatever lied below. It wasn't theirs anymore; It didn't have to be.

Slowly, they sank to their knees together, still locked against one another's mouths, but their bodies simply too tired to keep up the effort of standing. Kenny pressed his tongue against his lips, Kyle automatically opening for him. The blonde yelped and pulled back, holding out a now-bleeding tongue and looking at Kyle pathetically. The redhead snorted embarrassedly, pushing a lock of bloodied curls behind his ear as he tongued the substance off his fang. "Yeah...they do that. Sorry."

Kenny stared at him for a moment before smirking, "Gotcha. Only handies until we figure this shit out."

Kyle burst into laughter, wrapping his arms around the blonde's neck and holding him closely. Kenny's arms snuck around his waist and they curled in against each other, taking long, steady breaths of the unfamiliar scents plaguing the both of them.

"Boys!" Michael called, the both of them looking over as their group came rushing towards them. The brunette beamed, "I'm so proud of both of you, that was incredible!"

They both blushed and looked at each other to answer, cut off as a large, black head bounded between them. Kyle snorted, reaching up and petting Valefor's head. Kenny and the dog looked at each other for a moment before the dog licked his cheek and he grinned. "Please tell me we can keep him," Kenny cooed, wrapping his arms around the dog's neck excitedly.

Kyle raised his brow amusedly, "You convince the landlord to let us have a Hellhound and yeah." Valefor looked at him and he snorted, patting his head. "Told ya I'd get ya out," he teased. He looked over, pouting at Kenny still loving the dog and he cleared his throat. "Val, back the fuck up," he snapped. Valefor folded his ears and sat at his side, looking at Kenny and wagging his tail. Kyle glared at him before looking dryly at his fiancé. "Seriously, if you celebrate the dog more than _me,_ shit's goin' down," he promised.

Kenny snorted, reaching forward and tugging him back against his chest, nuzzling into his stained hair and kissing him gently. "Shut up," he murmured happily. Kyle chuckled and smiled, pressing his head against Kenny's chest, the both of them relishing in the togetherness, the closeness that they'd nearly forgotten what it felt like.

The archangels and Pip stared at them with small smiles, Michael nodding to the group. "I'll tell the army to disperse since our _leader_ seems to be preoccupied."

"You do that," Kenny mumbled into Kyle's hair, clasping around him tighter. "While you're at it, you're leader forever and always. Never call me again," he sighed.

"I second that," Kyle raised his hand, voice drooping sleepily as the adrenaline began to wear off, the brunt of what he put himself through finally starting to take hold. Michael snorted, turning on his heel and flying back towards their soldiers.

Pip cleared his throat, "Are you two all right?"

Kenny nodded, "Never better." He looked up at him and smiled, "Thanks for keeping Ky from going crazy."

"It was definitely appreciated," Kyle added with a small laugh, not raising his head from Kenny's warm chest, listening to his heartbeat and sighing contentedly. Pip waved them off with a grateful smile, just happy to see some sign of normalcy with Kyle once again.

"You both did fantastically," a soothing voice popped up. The two of them looked to see God and Jesus in front of them, smiling widely.

Kenny grinned back, shrugging sheepishly. "Nah, Ky's the one that did great," he ruffled his hair. "I would've died in, like, a minute flat if Mr. Brainy here didn't kick shit up a notch."

Kyle rolled his eyes, "Except how the fucker kept going after me and you had to keep saving me, R-tard. Do you not pay attention to _anything_?"

He pouted, slapping his arm playfully. "We don't see each other for this long and you call me R-tard?"

"Well, I ain't callin' ya snookums," he said dryly. Kenny snorted, kissing his lips briskly as they turned back to the deity watching them amusedly.

God looked at Kyle and His face dropped a bit sympathetically. "It's almost pointless to ask, but are you all right, Kyle?"

He cleared his throat, blushing as all eyes turned on him. "I'm okay," he shrugged awkwardly. "I mean...not...great, 'cause ya know...I'm a demon," he wriggled his claws. "But I'll survive," he said tiredly.

"The way you turned Damien's plan against him was fantastic, though," He complimented.

"Nothing brings that shithead down faster than his pride," he rolled his eyes. He looked at the creature and bit his lip. "Was he right? Am I stuck like this?"

God's face said it all and his heart dropped a bit, looking as Kenny wrapped his arms back around his waist and pulled him against his chest. He pressed his lips against his temple lightly. "We'll find a way to make it work," he promised, kissing him again. Kyle just nodded, red and green falling to the clouds for a moment as he sighed, leaning back against the angel.

"We do need to fix an...issue, however," God said softly.

Kyle cocked his head, "Like what?"

Kenny tightened his grip again and sighed. "Damien fucked up your soul. God has to fix it or you'll get stuck in Purgatory."

"Ah," he nodded. "I was wondering what the fuck he meant when he threatened that." He looked back at God and cleared his throat. "So...how do we go about fixing this?" he winced.

"I'll have to take your soul and repair it," He explained. "It may be easier now with some of Kenneth's soul in you."

"Kenneth?" he repeated with a smirk.

Kenny looked at him amusedly. "Dude, you can't boss God around. He can call me Sally if He wants." Kyle snorted and shook his head, their gazes shooting up as Peter hurried towards them.

"God, it's Satan," he said worriedly. "He wishes to speak with you and the boys."

Kenny clung onto Kyle tighter and the redhead patted his leg gently. "Dude, Satan saved me from getting my eye stabbed out, he's good." Kenny looked at him skeptically and Kyle kissed his lips softly. "I promise." The blonde nodded slowly, both of them getting onto their feet. Kyle rolled his eyes at the angel keeping his grip around him protectively as they and God headed towards the broken gates across the way, the rest of the group following close behind. Straggling soldiers bowed their heads a bit as they passed, Kyle raising his brow and looking at Kenny confusedly. "Dude, did people bow at you your whole time here?"

"No, but they called me Archangel Kenneth," he rolled his eyes.

Kyle burst into laughter. "Oh my fucking god, what a prissy ass title!" he snorted.

Pip cleared his throat, "Demons called you 'My lord' and 'Master Kyle', if you recall," he reminded him. Kyle glared back at him as Kenny twittered hysterically, shaking the man a bit.

" _Master_ Kyle. Hm. First time _you've_ been on that end, ain't it?"

"Kenny, I still have my claws," he smiled threateningly at him. "And I assume you still have balls. So watch it." Kenny pouted before kissing his head, just beyond glad to have Kyle around to threaten his genitalia once again.

Their smiles all dropped as they approached the looming red figure, looking at them forlornly. "Hello, Kyle," he nodded a bit.

"Hey," he waved back.

"You're not taking him back to Damien, are you?" Kenny hissed, clutching around the redhead possessively.

He shook his head, smiling sadly. "No. I'm here to tell you that Damien lived. He's going to have to be laid up recovering for a _long_ time...but he will make it..." he paused. "I think he'll try to come back for you," he directed solemnly at Kyle.

The redhead took a long breath, feeling Ken's arms tighten more around him. He'd figured as much. Nothing was _ever_ that easy. That was to worry about later though. For now he just wanted to breathe. He looked back at the Beast staring at him sympathetically. "Well, I mean, he would've just respawned anyway if Ken killed him, right?" Kyle shrugged, allowing Kenny to keep huddling closer into him with only a few unamused side-glares.

"No, if Kenny had gotten him, he would've died," he sighed tiredly. "Since your mortality is taking part of his soul and isn't fully sealed inside of his own, it's technically broken. Demons with broken souls don't come back if someone besides a demon kills them. Damien was too distracted with his ridiculous fight against you and didn't take that into account."

"Which is why we have to fix yours, Kyle," God said sternly. "As well as Kenneth's. We need to make sure your souls are fully fledged and are set to come to Heaven upon your deaths."

Satan sighed in relief, "I was hoping you were going to do that," he said quietly. He pulled his stack of books from behind him, handing them down to Kyle. The redhead blinked, taking them and looking back at the Beast confusedly. "Spells," he explained. "There's a few in there that may help hide your fangs and whatnot back on Earth. As well as a few fun ones," he smirked lightly.

"Um, wow...thanks," he said, clutching the books against his chest gratefully.

The devil turned to God, his face falling once more. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I didn't want this to continue. It was fucking stupid of me to want it in the first place. I tried to talk Damien out of it but..." he trailed off and sighed.

"But he's like you used to be," He nodded in understanding. "I know. And you saving Kyle proved that you've outgrown such petty things." Satan shifted uncomfortably and He smirked. "And you're getting your wish regardless," He said casually, watching Satan's face screw up confusedly and He chuckled. "Heaven will be taking on more souls. We're not going to put up with another uprising. We will build our army up above your own, your workload will decrease significantly."

He smiled and nodded, "Sounds good to me." He turned to Kenny and Kyle and nodded at them. "I'm sorry again, you two...Hope I never see you again," he smirked. "Please be careful, just in case down the road..." he trailed off. Kyle nodded solemnly, giving him a thankful, sad smile. The two of them waved a bit, grateful stares in their eyes. He paused, catching brown irises in the distance. He found himself staring at Michael in the background on the battlefield. The brunette smiled sadly and nodded him on. Satan took a deep breath, turning and walking back through the gates, descending once more through the clouds.

"Good to know someone besides Pip was on your side," Kenny said softly.

"Well, I had Valefor, too, but you can only talk so much to a dog before you start ripping hair out," Kyle rolled his eyes. He looked down at God and awkwardly scratched his neck. "So, can I ask a favor?"

"Of course," He nodded.

Kyle jerked his thumb back to Pip. "Can you keep this limey annoyance up here? Seriously, some demon's gonna use him as toilet paper if he stays down there any longer. Especially since a lot of them saw him with me."

Pip stared at him in shock and God nodded with a smile. "Of course. Plenty of room."

"T-thank you," Pip stammered, Kyle giving him a small wink.

"So," Kenny slid around Kyle. "Not that I don't like you guys or nothin', but, can we get fixed up and go home?" he pleaded.

"Please?" Kyle added.

God smirked and nodded. He walked up to them with glowing paws, pushing each against one of their legs. Their eyes rolled back and they collapsed in silence atop one another and the deity shook His head. He looked at His archangels and smiled. "Let's get these two home."

* * *

Kenny's eyes slowly creaked open with a groan, shifting on his back uncomfortably. He couldn't seem to find a satisfying angle, something feeling off. He looked to his side, seeing a mop of red hair beside him and shooting his eyes wide open, sitting up and looking to find themselves in their apartment, in their room, in _their_ bed.

He panted, feeling around his face before reaching down and touching Kyle's arm. Kyle moaned, listlessly shooing him off. Kenny caught the gleam of his claws in the low lighting and sighed. Kyle's spell books sat atop his nightstand, Resurrection leaned against the wall just beyond. Well, at least he knew it wasn't just a tripped out nightmare.

"Bout time," a voice said softly. He looked to see Raphael and Michael standing there with amused smirks. Kyle slowly opened his own eyes, experiencing the same surprise and shaking his head, trying to rid himself of his exhaustion. He sat up beside Kenny and rubbed his eyes, looking at his cleaned skin with a raised brow.

Michael rolled his eyes, "Yes, someone cleaned you up. No, it was not one of the men, so don't even start with your perverted bullshit."

Kenny snorted, "This is my apartment, I'll be perverted if I damn well want to."

Raphael chuckled. "We'll leave you for now, boys. I'm sure you want to just relax. We'll see you soon," he winked before the both of them faded off from the room.

Kyle raised his brow, "See us soon? What, they gonna kill us so we're permanent soldiers?"

"I wouldn't be sur-FUCK!" Kenny shouted as a large, furry figure jumped on his stomach, pinning him down. Deep red eyes looked up at Kyle excitedly, nubby tail wriggling. "Get him off! He's so heavy!" he rasped, legs kicking desperately.

Kyle snorted, "C'mere, ya big doofus," he waved the dog over. Valefor clambered off of Kenny and beside him, licking Kyle's face. "Welcome home, I guess," he patted his head.

Kenny sat up, gasping for air. "Jesus _Christ,_ he's going on a diet!" Kyle rolled his eyes and chuckled. They both flinched as a voice screamed from their living room.

" _Why aren't they trying harder to find them?!"_

" _I don't know, Stan, please don't-"_

" _FUCK!"_

The men looked at each other, Valefor growling at the intrusion. "Shh," Kyle said. "It's Stan and Wendy...why are they here?" Kenny shrugged as both of them hopped off the bed. Kenny stumbled, not used to not having the weight of his wings on his back. Kyle looked at him worriedly, "I can't go out there like this," he said, gesturing to his fangs.

Ken blinked in thought, heading over to their closet and tearing it open. He rustled through to the back, whipping out his heavy orange parka and tossing it to him. "Wear this," he directed. Kyle blinked, slipping it on and zipping it up, Kenny coming over and situating the hood over his head and mouth. Kyle shoved his hands into the pockets and Ken grinned lovingly. "If they ask about yer eyes, you're super into cosplay right now, all right?"

Kyle scoffed and shook his head as Kenny laughed, leading the way out into the main room. Kyle held his hand for Valefor to stay, shutting the door softly in front of him. Wendy and Stan turned as they emerged from the hallway, looking at them in shock. Both of them had horrid bags under their eyes, hair strewn about. "Guys!" Stan cried out gratefully. "I can't bel-"

He froze as did everything else around them did the same. Kenny and Kyle jerked back with each other, looking around at their disheveled apartment, still torn apart from Damien's rampage. Their door was completely axed open from trying to get over the couch pushed against the barrier. Police tape was scattered about the area, strung around every bit of furniture that Damien had used to bring Kyle down. Kenny looked on the floor, finding a piece of paper with a picture of the two of them with wording underneath and raised his brow. "They put out missing signs for us," he commented.

"Well, Stan heard me getting kidnapped," Kyle mumbled under the heavy hood. They flinched again, watching as things started to repair themselves, the papers disappearing and the furniture putting itself back together. The dent in the wall from Kyle slamming into it straightened back out, Stan and Wendy themselves resetting, looking healthy and happy, Stan in the middle of saying something.

Kenny's eyes widened, elbowing Kyle and jerking his head towards Wendy. "Dude, she's knocked up."

"Holy hell, what the shit is going on?" Kyle blinked.

"The world's resetting," Kenny muttered, watching as things fell back into place. He was more than used to this, sighing heavily. Butterfly effects still reigned his existence. Stan and Wendy thought he was 'still there' and decided to get busy and broke the damn condom. Awesome. Six months and no one would remember his disappearance. Kyle was sure to get a mouthful for his absence though, no doubt.

The two of them straightened up as Stan and Wendy came back to life, Stan finishing a sentence with a laugh along with Wendy. Kenny fell into his old habit and automatically started belting out with laughter, Kyle awkwardly following his lead. "So, how are you two?" Wendy asked with a wide smile.

"Erm, great," Kyle said.

Stan rolled his eyes, "Kyle, you're fucking cold, but could you loosen up the hood just a _little_? I mean, damn, it's like being stuck with younger Kenny again," he waved towards him aimlessly. Kenny blinked in shock. They didn't remember _Kyle_ either. Something here was definitely up.

"Well," Wendy said, brandishing a box from behind her. "We gotta hit the doctor, but here's some cookies that I _thought_ I wanted," she rolled her eyes. "Hormones are a _bitch_."

"I bet," Kenny laughed. "How far along are ya again?"

"16 weeks," she declared proudly, tapping her slightly bloated stomach.

He smiled, "Well we've said it a million times, but congrats, you two. You're gonna be awesome parents," he winked. Wendy stepped up and hugged him, shaking him a bit before doing the same to Kyle.

"We'll see you two later," she grinned with a wave, turning on her heel and walking out the door.

Stan called, "I'll be there in a sec!" before turning back to the two of them, staring at them strangely.

"What's up?" Kyle mumbled.

"I just...feel...something weird," he squinted at them a bit before shaking his head. "I don't know, something just felt really off for a moment there."

Kenny cleared his throat, "Well, jeez, Marsh, I thought only the _women_ dealt with the preggo crazies," he grinned.

Stan snorted, punching his shoulder a bit. "Fuck you. I'll talk to you guys later." He turned to Kyle and smirked, "Next time order the right color contacts, hm? You look like a fucking half-possessed freak," he winked, turning and walking out behind Wendy, closing the door behind him.

They stared after him and Kyle slowly shed Kenny's coat, tossing it onto a chair. "Ken, what the hell just happened?"

"You have part of my soul," he said in realization. "So you have the same resetting issue that I do," he gestured around.

"So...no one remembers us being gone?" he said. Kenny nodded briskly and the redhead sighed. "Well...I won't have to deal with my mother about it then," he smiled a bit. Kenny laughed and Kyle's sensitive nose scrunched at a delightful smell, breaking into a grin. "Six o'clock, coffee's done," he announced, the timer going off right on cue. He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed two mugs, licking his lips as Kenny stepped up beside him, watching amusedly. Kyle caught his smirk and pouted. "I haven't had anything to eat or drink but bread, raw meat, and water for six months. Lemme enjoy myself here," he waved him off, pouring them both a mug and heading to the other side of the kitchen, digging through a cabinet.

Kenny raised his brow, "Creamer's this way, Babe."

Kyle scoffed, ripping a glass bottle out of the cabinet and shaking it. "You can use fucking milk all you want but _I'm_ having fucking whiskey."

Kenny nodded briskly, dumping some coffee down the sink and setting his mug on the counter. "Make mine half and half," he requested, walking over to let a whining Valefor out of their room. The dog bounded out, excitedly sniffing around the new location, bumping into furniture as he explored. Kenny plopped down on the couch, sighing tiredly and looking at the ceiling. Kyle walked over and pressed his mug against his arm, the blonde taking it with a grateful grin. He swung his leg up onto the couch and turned, Kyle sitting nuzzled between his legs and leaning against his chest.

"You see the second bedroom?" Kyle muttered.

"No, why?"

He rolled his eyes, "Apparently our wedding is planned since I saw invitations and decoration shit stacked sky high."

"Your lovely mother, no doubt," Kenny grinned, kissing his head gently. He looked down at Kyle contentedly sipping at his Irish coffee, claws scraping lightly against the ceramic. "You're amazing," he said softly.

"It's just Jamesons, sugar, and Foldgers, Ken, jeez."

He rolled his eyes. "No, you idiot. I mean...How are you staying together right now?" he asked worriedly.

Kyle paused, tracing his finger over the rim of his mug and staring at Valefor sniffing the door trim for a few silent moments. "I told him he didn't own me," he finally answered quietly. "If I dwell on what happened, if I have a fucking breakdown over this shit, he _wins_."

Kenny's face dropped, "There's nothing wrong with breaking down, Ky."

The redhead turned a bit, leaning his arm against the back of the couch and staring at him. "I _had_ my breakdown," he said. "I had a _lot_ of them," he rolled his eyes. "But now I don't have a reason to, ya know?" he shrugged. "Look, things sucked, and I'm still a freak, but, for now, it's over," he smiled softly. "We're _home_. We're both _alive_. Why would I want to fall into a goddamn depression when things literally couldn't be better?" he questioned. "If you wanna cry, go for it, I'm here for you if you need to sob it out. But I seriously don't need to," he assured him. "Shit may happen again down the road but for now, everything is...perfect," he breathed out in relief.

Kenny smiled crookedly, gathering him in his free arm and pulling him up against him, kissing his cheek. "If you need to, you know, when things kinda catch up..."

"Come find you, got it," he rolled his eyes. "I say we don't talk about _any_ of it right now. We can deal with that tomorrow. Right now, I just wanna breathe," he said softly, kissing him back and taking a long, grateful sip of his drink. Kenny smiled warmly and nodded as Kyle snuggled back into him, their heads resting against one another's as they silently sipped away. The room smelled of coffee and cookies, their bodies automatically forming against one another, as they had so many times in the past. The threat of the future could wait for now, they needed this moment of normalcy and comfort, to feel the other and know that they were there for whatever they needed. Everything was quiet, everything was serene, everything was perfect.

They were alive, they were together, and they were home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for yet another super long chapter pff. Only the epi left oh sadness.


	51. Epilogue: The End of the Tunnel

**There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. -** _**1 John 4:18** _

**10 months later**

Kenny's gaze flowed smoothly around the crowded room, raising his drink to his lips with a content smile over his face. He glanced down at the shine of his brand new silver ring, heart fluttering happily as the soothing lull of people's murmurs and laughter swept over him in a warming embrace.

"Where's Ky?" Stan asked him with a raised brow across the redhead's empty chair.

He shrugged, gesturing off into the crowd. "You know how his family is. His aunt's probably holding him hostage for pictures or some shit."

Cartman scoffed, rolling his eyes as he threw a piece of watermelon into his mouth. "That's how _all_ Jews are, Kinny. Holding people hostage and forcing them into mundane tasks against their will."

He looked at him sharply, "Dude, you promised no Jew jokes today if you didn't have to buy us a gift."

He smirked, shrugging innocently. "Kahl said not around his _family_."

Kenny waved his left hand in his face before smacking him with the back of it. "He's my husband now, shit breath. I _am_ family."

"That doesn't count," he whined. Kenny sighed irritably, wondering why his life was so poor as to have to be stuck with Eric Cartman as his goddamn best man as the glutton continued on, "Sure you wanna be part of their little coupon cult?"

He rolled his eyes, "I married Kyle, not his entire fucking family. Half of his people are only here because Sheila insisted," he gestured off into the crowd. "Ky doesn't know who most of them are."

"Good thing he's so good at lying on his feet," Stan chuckled, looking up as Wendy sat back down beside him with a smile.

"Alex is good," she informed him.

Cartman raised his brow, "Oh yeah, I forgot you two had a little spawn of weed and Kumbaya. How's he holding up living on nothing but tofu?"

Wendy glared at him sharply, "We are not feeding our son tofu, Cartman."

"Guys, don't start," Kenny whined, taking a long sip of his whiskey. "It's my wedding day, c'monnnnn."

"It's mine, too, but I'm the only one out there making conversation," Kyle's voice popped up, leaning over towards him across the table. "I just had to spend twenty minutes explaining to my cousin why we didn't have a rabbi," he frowned. "Kill me."

Kenny smirked, kissing him briskly. "Did you tell him it's because I'm a hopeless sinner who'll never find the true path?"

He grinned and shrugged, "Well of course. Can't tell him that _I_ didn't want one. I'll be excommunicated from the family reunions." He sighed, pushing up his dress shirt sleeves and grabbing his mojito, taking a long, needed sip. "Why did no one tell us that this fucking thing required so much socialization?" he complained.

"Because marriage is supposed to be the shitty part, the wedding itself is supposed to be 'magical'," he air quoted.

"Oh, yeah, my mother and your sister bawling uncontrollably during the ceremony sure made it 'magical'," he returned the gesture.

Kenny snorted, hopping up and leaping over the table, clutching him in his arms. He stared into his vivid green eyes and smiled lovingly, kissing his lips as they ignored Cartman's incessant gagging noises from behind them. "Aw c'mon," Ken said, swinging him lightly. "Food's good, drinks are free for us, and we have a shit ton of gifts," he grinned.

"And, ya know, we're married," he raised his brow.

"Yeah, that, too," he shrugged with a wink. He picked him up around the waist, prompting a startled yelp. He puckered his lips expectantly and Kyle rolled his eyes, leaning down and kissing him again.

He let the redhead drop back down and Kyle smacked him lightly. "Don't pick me up, I'm not a goddamn girl," he lectured.

Cartman snorted, "You're just jealous that Kinny has more muscle than you, you fucking twiggy shit." Kyle looked over at him, lips twisted humorlessly. " _Someone_ has to wear the pants," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Kyle looked at Kenny with a pleading expression and the blonde nodded approvingly. The redhead turned back and crossed his arms, jutting his hip out. "Fifty bucks," he said simply.

"For what?" he scoffed.

"Fifty bucks says I can lift him, too," he pointed to Kenny.

He raised his brow, "A centimeter off the ground before your back breaks doesn't count, Kahl."

"Kyle, dude, don't," Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "You don't wanna be in the hospital today."

"Fifty bucks!" he repeated, ignoring his best friend's groaning.

Cartman shrugged, "Fine. Fifty bucks. More than five inches off the ground and for ten seconds," he added.

Kyle gulped for effect, Kenny stifling a laugh. "Fine," he said primly, turning to face the blonde. Kenny winked, chuckling softly as Kyle 'prepared' himself, looking at the faces staring at him nervously. He broke into a wicked smirk as soon as a smug grin hit Cartman's face, reaching down and grabbing around Kenny's knees, hoisting him into the air with ease. Kenny laughed, putting his hands on Kyle's head to keep his balance. Kyle looked at Cartman's shocked expression, holding out his hand and folding his fingers in. "Your money, if you please," he drawled.

The brunette blinked before grumbling, tearing out his wallet and throwing a fifty towards him. "Fuck you, Kahl."

Kyle smirked, gently setting Kenny back onto the ground and grabbing the bill happily. "Aw, Ken, we should get this framed," he teased. "With a plaque under it that says 'The greatest day in our lives: Our marriage...and the day Fatass had to hand Kyle fifty dollars'," he gestured his hand in front of them in wonderment. "Oh! Or maybe turn it in in his name as a donation to the Synagogue!" he exclaimed to Cartman's horrified expression. Kenny broke into hysteric laughter, holding his stomach as Cartman flipped them off with a grumble.

"Kyle, when the _fuck_ did that start?" Stan asked, mouth agape as he stared at his slender best friend in shock.

He shrugged, "Writing so many essays makes my arm stronger?"

Wendy broke into laughter and shook her head. "Well, well, strong _and_ smart. So what does Kenny bring to the table?" she teased.

"My devilishly handsome looks of course," Kenny batted his lashes. Kyle laughed, grabbing his drink and taking another sip. The blonde looked down at him, grin fading a bit as he noticed red trying to spark through his left eye. He leaned down and whispered into his ear, "Babe, you're fadin'."

Kyle backed up and cocked his brow before his eyes widened in realization. He quickly set his drink down, "Headin' to the bathroom," he announced.

"Me, too," Kenny went to follow after the quickly moving redhead who was dodging family members as fluidly as he could.

"Don't have sex in the bathroom, Kenny," Stan pleaded.

He scoffed, "Fuck you. When you and Wends finally tie the knot I'll make sure you can fuck wherever you want. I _expect_ the same treatment," he said snobbishly, leaving with a smirk as he heard Wendy jumping right into another marriage rant. He bought a good twenty minutes of time before Stan came looking for them knowing her speeches.

He briskly jogged out of the reception hall into the lobby, finding Kyle hiding his face and waiting for him. "Check," the man mumbled, eyes flittering around for passer-bys.

Kenny stepped into the restroom, checking under the stalls and nodding approvingly. "Empty," he declared. Kyle hurried in and Kenny quickly locked the door behind the both of them, watching as Kyle sighed, dropping his hands from his face and looking at him tiredly.

"I need a spell that lasts more than a few hours," he mumbled, sliding over his fangs with his tongue.

Kenny smiled, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it for the aftermath, setting it on the counter in front of the sink. "Better a few hours than that one that lasted a few minutes and you scared the delivery guy."

He pouted, "Well he deserved it for coming at fucking 2 on a Tuesday." Kyle quickly made work of his dress shirt, tossing it out of the way onto the counter. He took a moment to look at the webbing scars back and splayed across his body, shaking himself out of it before Kenny could launch into another comforting speech. He'd had enough of those the past ten months to last him the rest of eternity.

He held open his palm, Kenny wincing as the man sliced a claw through his skin without the slightest bit of a cringe. Kyle swept his finger through the blood pooling in his palm, casually beginning to wipe it over his eyelid, mouth, arms and claws. "Hand," he said softly, Kenny holding out his marked right palm. Kyle smeared some of the substance overtop of it, rubbing his coated hand over his own pentagram marking and grasping Kenny's hand in his own. Kenny watched in interest, as he always did, at Kyle's red eye picking up that eerie glow. _"Revertere ad quid illud esset_ ," he spoke softly, focus concentrated on their joined hands. " _Cutis de innocense."_ Kenny felt his body tingle, letting out a long sigh. _"Mortibus aegrotationum morientur non vident veritatem,"_ he finished, groaning and opening his jaw as his fangs receded back to a normal length.

Kenny smiled sadly, taking his hand back and watching the tattoo fading into his normal skin tone. Kyle opened his eyes, back to both being their vivid jade coloring. Kenny handed him the paper towel, watching as Kyle scrubbed off his face and hands before handing it back to him to wipe off his palm. He stared at the redhead in awe as he casually started the sink, washing his blood from off his arms, the maroon swirling around the drain in a morbid canticle. Kyle stared at his hand as it healed itself back up, sighing tiredly and looking at the blonde with a small smile. "One day I'll get used to this." He quickly threw his shirt back on, covering the scars still lingering around his torso and back as he buttoned it back up and tucked it into his slacks.

"No one said it had to be now," he said softly, leaning down and kissing his forehead. "I'm here for you when it gets there."

"I'm hoping you're here for me now, too," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tightly.

Kenny smirked, rubbing his shoulder gently, "I'm dealing with a kosher wedding meal, and you think I'm not beside you through thick and thin? C'mon, Ky."

The redhead snorted. "That wasn't my idea, I keep telling you," he let go of him, leading them both to the door, unlocking it and grabbing his hand, toting him back out towards the hall.

"Yeah but I didn't hear you arguing too much," he teased.

"Dude, I fought tooth and nail to get her to omit the flowers, okay? That lasted three weeks and she used it to wear me down and get her way with the catering," he pouted, walking back into the thrall of people. Kenny broke into laughter as they walked back towards their table, Kyle looking up all of a sudden at a subtle creaking in his sharp hearing under the noise of people. "Not todayyy," he whined.

Kenny followed his stare and caught a large light fixture above them, shaking violently and ready to break off its hold. He sighed irritably. "Well, if we do this today, we don't have to help clean up _and_ all the gifts will already be upstairs when we get back," he shrugged.

Kyle looked up in thought for a moment and nodded, "Yeah, sounds good. I'm sick of this party anyway. If one more person tells us to kiss I'll lose it," he snorted. His eyes both glowed a vibrant green and he swept his hands outwards as the fixture began to fall, people being pushed out of the way of any possible collateral damage with loud shouts of shock. The men smirked, grasping each other's hand as the light came crashing down on top of them, both of them fading off to the sounds of horrified screams.

* * *

"You know, I think we're overdressed," Kyle commented blandly as they walked through Purgatory together, gesturing to their dress clothes.

"We'll just be the most dapper gentlemen in all the land," Kenny teased, sniggering as Kyle rolled his eyes.

He gently bit on his lip, avoiding his fangs and sighed. "Wouldn't have wasted the time doing the fucking make up routine if I knew this was happening again."

"Right?" he cocked his brow. "Missed out on some sweet whiskey and rum time for supernatural cosmetics."

Kyle chuckled as they stepped up towards the glowing light, grabbing each other's hands as they always did and being shot upwards, both of them wincing at the air slapping against their pupils. They both shouted as they finally came crashing down, landing on their stomachs in front of an amusedly staring Saint Peter. "Welcome back, Boys."

"Always a pleasure," Ken rolled his eyes, getting to his feet with Kyle and walking side by side through the opening gates. Kyle watched, fascinated as usual as the base of Kenny's wings tore through his shirt, the pristine white array of feathers unfurling gracefully. He pouted, looking at his own naked back and sighing tiredly.

"This is why I told you no renting a tux," he smirked a bit. "Can't return it with damn wing holes."

"Jealous?" he raised his brow, stretching his wings out to get them moving flowingly again.

He tinged with color and crossed his arms, scoffing. "No," he bit.

He smiled, leaning down and kissing him lovingly. "Poor little fallen angel," he teased, pinching his cheek. Kyle rolled his eyes, slapping his hand away. He shifted a bit, letting out another sigh. That was how it'd always been: Angels lost their wings once they fell from grace. Kyle was grounded for the rest of eternity with Damien's blood still pumping viciously inside him. Yet another reminder that things had changed. Kenny stared at him for a moment, giving him another sad smile. "Hey," he said, bumping his chin up with his fingers and kissing him once more. "I'm more than happy t' give ya a lift," he winked, wrapping around Kyle's waist and taking off into the air, heading towards God's domain.

"Where're we going?" he blinked. "Usually you wanna go throw things at Pip."

He shrugged, "I'm thinkin' we start our honeymoon right here and now," he grinned slyly, looking to see Kyle returning the expression as they soared through the air. "I mean, we're _literally_ in Paradise. Better than that camping trip, right?" he quirked his brow.

"Well, I mean, in the woods, no one would hear me scream," he purred. "Here, we have to actually tone it down a little."

"Fuck them, it's our wedding day," he scoffed, both of them listlessly waving to Barachiel, Jegudiel, Selaphiel, and Uriel as they zoomed over them. "You can shake the goddamn foundations and they can't get mad. It ain't pre-marital no more." Kyle snorted, shaking his head as Kenny brought them in for a landing on Ken's balcony, looking to see Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel hovering behind them on their way out of the city with raised brows.

"Well aren't _we_ fancy?" Raphael teased.

"Just married, Bitches," Kenny shook his left hand in display. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to plow my husband into our next lifetime." he waved them away as Kyle hid his face in his hand, shaking his head softly.

Michael groaned and rolled his eyes, "Thanks for the update, Kenneth."

"Ay," he warned, pointing at the brunette as he slowly led Kyle back into his room, shoving him through the open doorway.

"Have fun, I guess," Gabriel shook his head.

"We will," he grinned cheekily, slamming the door shut behind him and looking at Kyle staring at him amusedly. "What?" he teased.

"'Plow me into our next lifetime'?" he raised his brow. "Seriously?"

He shrugged, "It ain't inaccurate."

"Still though," he said, tilting his head as Kenny's lips pushed against his neck, letting out a shuddery breath.

Kenny grinned, nipping against the soft skin and gently tracing his hands over Kyle's body, grabbing his ass and pulling him forward to grind against his hips. "So, Mr. Broflovski-McCormick, what would you like to do?" he teased.

"Get a shorter last name, Mr. Broflovski-McCormick," he chuckled right back, letting Kenny lead him to the bed and shove him down, coming overtop of him and grinding along his pantline. Kyle shuddered, arching up against him, holding his clawed fingers clenched atop his head and shoved under Kenny's pillow. They'd had a few too many incidents of Kyle forgetting his claws and scratching straight through Kenny's skin, ending any hint of fun and turning into a healing, apologetic, comforting hour for Kyle to endure.

Kyle watched as Kenny's wings folded down around him on either side, feeling warm and safe wrapped in their transparent embrace. He felt Kenny's lips tracing over the scars on his arm and torso, gentle pecks being planted by his fangs before he brushed over the brow of his left eye. His heart fluttered and he let out a long, grateful sigh. He looked up as the kisses stopped to find Kenny staring at him intently, watching him carefully for signs to move away. Kyle rolled his eyes, taking his hands from under the pillow to grab Kenny's collar, pulling him down to meet his lips forcefully. "Get to your promise to those guys, will ya?" he whispered hotly against his mouth.

Kenny chuckled, hands moving into the motions as he nodded, kissing him brashly. "Anything for you," he promised. Kyle brought his hands up from his shirt, sliding through Kenny's hair and pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss.

The two of them stayed clutched together, holding onto each moment with a gratefulness consistently looping in the backs of their minds. They'd _fought_ for this. They'd cried, bled, and suffered for this moment and every single one that they would stave through together throughout the future. From spilling coffee on one another on over-sleepy mornings to walking Valefor and letting him scare people for fun; From quick goodbye kisses as they headed to school or work to rolling on the floor fighting over the remote control; From randomly waking up in tears and clinging onto the other for hours to exchanging their vows and finding themselves curled up together naked and moaning against one another in Heaven yet again, _every_ moment was something they'd earned; Something that they embraced whole-heartedly. Through it all, they had each other. And in the end, angel or demon that they may be, it was all they ever needed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's do these first so I can rant. Translations:
> 
> _Revertere ad quid illud esset_ \- Return to what it was
> 
> _Cutis de innocense_ \- Skin of the innocent
> 
> _Mortibus aegrotationum morientur non vident veritatem_ \- They shall not see the truth
> 
> Now then. Thank you guys so much for the continued support of this story. Seriously you guys I had a BLAST with this one. This is probably my second favorite that I've written overall. Because Renaissance of Lilith still has to be my fave so much Kyle torture unf. Anyway, this was an absolutely crazy and longass thing to push out but I'm really happy with it. Dunno if you guys are but damn am I and that's pretty hard for me to actually feel good about my stories so I consider this a success. I had fun and I hope you did, too!
> 
> My orange idiots are adjusting. It's not perfect but damn are they trying /tearwipe
> 
> So, for a final time, thanks for R&Ring! Hope to see you on more stories! And hope some of you are inspired to write Dylenny of your own please. Please don't let me be the only one /sob
> 
> _(See you in the sequel ;D)_


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